


Daughter of the Dunedain

by alice_time



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hidden Heir, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of past abuse, Missing siblings, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Spanking, The Return of the King - Freeform, The Two Towers, some canon deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-01-16 00:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice_time/pseuds/alice_time
Summary: Arathorn did not fall so soon after his son's birth, and though Gilraen and he had no more children, Arathorn did find comfort in the arms of one of the Dunedain women. A child secreted away. Hidden and safe. Aragorn arrives in Edoras and sets off a chain of events that will bring him face to face with the sister he never knew.A sister far too much like her dear brother.





	1. The Time of the Fellowship

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter spans the Two Towers and the Return of the King. Follow-up chapters will cover the reign of Aragorn. 
> 
> *This chapter contains a spanking of a teenager by a parental figure.

A hawk circled overhead as three horses rode up the path of Edoras.

“Who are they?”

“No one you need worry over, girl. Get inside.”

The girl frowned. “You think they will help the king?”

“None of our concern, is that.”

Amongst the fair and red-haired men and women and children standing amongst the slopes of Edoras, the dark-haired girl was an oddity. She had the most peculiar feeling, though, that if they stayed and watched, they would see something. In the pit of her, she knew something was about to happen. So she shook off her minder and waited.

Waited, until the king himself, looking again, himself, strode down the steps from the golden hall. He was followed by a tall man with dark hair and eyes like the sky. Before him was the Wormtongue. The other youth teased her at times, as he was one of the few amongst them that shared her hair. Her eyes though, were the green of the hills.

Tall and gangly, she’d shot up like a weed and stood taller than some of the grown women around her. She knelt when Theoden was declared king. Her minder forced her back home soon enough though.

She felt it still, something was coming. Some terrible thing.

And the herald announced it soon enough—they were all to go to Helm’s Deep.

So she packed. Ignoring her minder as she took the things her mother had left her. The bow. The quiver. A blade sharp and Elvish. She’d no intention of going there to die. Packed and ready though, she was pulled into service helping get the horses ready. She’d a knack with them that made her valuable even if her neighbors and her minder disapproved.

The girl was in the stables when Braygo went mad. She couldn’t get past the press of men to get to him, but she did not have to. The stranger, the dark-haired stranger, calmed him. She ducked into a stall, watching, listening to the familiar sounds as he spoke to the beast.

“Ariel,” her minder snapped. “Hurry with that horse.”

Ariel sighed, taking the horse by the reigns and leading it outside. She’d no horse to ride, and was stuck walking. It was a long journey, one she had never made herself. She did not want to make the journey, but it wasn’t up to her. Her minder, Fulgrim, kept her close. She watched the skies for the hawk, and listened to the wind.

“You must stay near when we camp,” Fulgrim would say. “Do not wander.”

Ariel was used to this. He worried, though she had never understood why. He was not her kin. Not her blood. Just a man her mother had trusted. A man her mother should not have trusted, if Ariel’s opinion was worth anything at all. They were drawing closer to Helm’s Deep, passing the cliffs, when she felt it. The foreboding deepened and grew quickly.

And then someone screamed.

“We’re under attack!”

“Warg attack!”

Fulgrim pulled her close, hurrying as the Lady Eowyn directed them away from the battle. Ariel tasted copper on her tongue. _I should be there._ She tried to pull away from him, but the press of the others around her was great. She was forced along clinging tight to her pack. Helm’s Deep awaited her.

***

The great fortress loomed above them. The refugees were directed away and down, toward the caves. For the first time in her recent memory, Ariel found herself alone. Fulgrim had lost track of her. Ariel slipped away, pulling a hood over her telltale hair and hiding amongst the other refugees. She watched as the soldiers who’d stayed to fight off the warg arrived.

Arrived one short. The dark-haired stranger was not with them.

“He fell,” the dwarf said.

She did not believe it, however. Another feeling came over her. Light, instead of the dark she had felt so long. There was hope.

 _He has not fallen._ A voice whispered in her mind. _He has not fallen._ But she could not comfort anyone. Why would they listen to an odd girl with peculiar senses and strange visions? The kindest word anyone used was touched. Touched by what, Ariel never knew. It mattered little. She was rarely interested in what others thought of her. There was little point.

And yet…she found herself drawn back to Lady Eowyn. She found Eowyn alone and approached her.

“My lady?”

The beauty’s eyes were rimmed red. “Did you need something, child?”

“I—I do not believe he has fallen. I have. I have sensings at times. I know things, at times. I know this. He has not fallen.” Ariel bit her lip. “I know you must think me cruel, but I promise you. I feel this in the heart of my being.”

Eowyn frowned. “Thank you, child.” She paused. “What is your name?”

“I am called Ariel.”

“Are you alone?”

Ariel shook her head. “I am Fulgrim’s ward.”

“Not his daughter?”

“No.” Ariel met Eowyn’s eyes. “I am not of Rohan.”

“Thank you, Ariel, I hope you are right.” Eowyn smiled.

Ariel nodded quickly, and slipped back into the shadows.

***

Ariel watched the man’s return with vindication. She’d been right. It was not the first time, but it was the first time she’d told another soul. With him though, came the news of an army. Ariel would not let this pass as she had the last battle. She couldn’t. The same feeling had entered her being to the last fiber. _I must fight._ She took clothes, disguising herself. It was not difficult. She had none of the curve that might betray a girl less angular and tall.

She belted on her knife, slung quiver on her back and gathered arrows. Her bow, a thing of Elvish make just as her blade. She was supposed to go down into the caves. But she could not. Fulgrim called for her, but Ariel was already hidden in plain sight. She would not hide from the battle. She could not. The sense, the voice, it near screamed. _I must fight._ Some turn could come in this battle. Her sense wished her there, so she would be.

She took a sword from the armory as they were passed around.

She couldn’t help overhearing the argument, the shouts between Aragorn and the elf Legolas. She understood much of it. It had been some time since she had the opportunity to speak Elvish with anyone, but the words were coming back now. Words her mother had whispered. Words that woke a fire in her blood she did not understand. There was some power there. Something bright and light.

There were boys, barely tall enough for a blade, stuffed into armor and handed weapons. Ariel could not leave them to fight alone. She found armor, chain over a thick quilted jacket.

“Can you fire that bow?”

Ariel startled, she had not heard the elf approach. “I can.”

“It is Elvish make. Of the Woodland realm, my home.”

Ariel nodded. “It came to me from my mother.” She looked up at him. “I’ve been stringing and drawing this bow since I was twelve.”

He smiled. “I mean no offense. It is simply…unusual, to see one such bow in the hands of someone not an elf or a known elf-friend. Who was your mother?”

Ariel took a breath. “She was known as Mithien.”

Legolas stared harder at Ariel. “I know the name. I did not know she a child. Join the archers, your bow will give you great range.”

Ariel nodded, grateful when at last he passed from her sight. She had not spoken her mother’s name in many years.

She could feel fear, despair, drenching the air about them. There was little hope amongst the gathered men and boys. Ariel joined the archers at the base of the wall. It was beginning to darken when a feeling again of light found her—and a horn breeched the silence. It was no orcish horn.

“Elves!” The shout came up.

Ariel watched in awe as the elves of Lorien arrived in numbers. _Yes._ Now, now they had a chance indeed.

***

They were settled in when the marching darkness came into sight. She’d not taken up arms in violence before, but there was no denying the voice of battle in her heart. She stood with the archers on the wall now, watching the wave of impending doom come toward them. She did not know how the battle would play out.

She could not imagine the great wall falling, bursting forth and breaking to allow the enemy entry. The stones beneath her feet rocked, but she did not stumble. She did not leave the wall, firing arrow after arrow at the hordes. She had to pause to scoop up another quiver from a fallen compatriot, firing still into the crowd.

Her attention was drawn a moment, as Legolas rode down the stairs on a shield, firing arrows with precision she wished to match. She shook her head, putting her mind off his feat and turning instead to the next enemy at her feet.

The order came to fall back to the keep. She was still on the wall when the elves began to head for the keep. She felt rooted to the stone. Something was about to happen. Something she had a part to play in.

The elf of Lorien Aragorn had embraced shouted for his men to retreat. She watched the progression of his battle and drew back her bow. She fired at the orc behind him, and then another beside him, clearing his path. He looked up at her, meeting those green eyes with his own sharp stare and nodding.

Ariel nodded back.

“To the keep with you now,” he shouted, gesturing for her to follow him. Ariel did not hesitate, jumping over the bodies and moving toward him. He clapped a hand on her shoulder and they rushed for the keep, pulling others along with them.

They made the keep, joining the others already there. The great doors were closed and barricaded.

“Glorfindel,” Aragorn approached. “You live.”

“I have someone to thank,” Glorfindel nodded toward the gangly archer. “His aim was true.”

Ariel met Aragorn’s gaze for the first time, feeling that same sense of importance in the moment as when she was rooted to the wall.

“Thank you, he is a friend, I would hate to have lost him.” Aragorn smiled, clapping her on the shoulder. “You should rest while you can, lad.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Ariel nodded quickly and rushed away.

“An Elvish bow…” Aragorn frowned.

“Indeed.” Glorfindel took a breath. “You should rest as well, Elendil. You will need your strength.”

“Indeed.”

***

The fortress was breached, the keep doors shuddered with every strike of the battering rams. It seemed hopeless.

But Ariel did not feel hopeless. She felt a calm. The end of the battle was near, she was certain. This morning would see the end of this battle. The dawn was bright.

“We ride out,” Glorfindel had found her. “Are you ready?”

Ariel stood, shouldering a full quiver. “I am.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I think you may be good luck.”

“I hope so.”

The first riders broke out of the keep, and Ariel felt the turn of the tide as a great horn blew. She knew this horn, Rohan’s horn. The riders crested the hill, the wizard at their helm. It did not last long after that. An arrow grazed Ariel’s thigh, drawing blood in a sharp line. But the orcs were retreating, and she could rest. She dropped down into a crenel on top of the wall, bracing herself with the merlons on either side.

“You look tired,” Glorfindel found her again. “Are you hurt?”

Ariel looked at her thigh. “A graze, nothing more. You are far more injured than I.”

“Still, it should be seen to.” He held out a hand.

Ariel took it, letting him help her out of the crenel. Her leg gave way the moment her weight was on it. “Ah!”

“Just a graze?” Glorfindel knelt, eyeing the wound with more care. “An arrow?”

She nodded, feeling rather peculiar all of a sudden.

He touched the wound with a gloved hand drawing up a smear of blood and smelling it. “Poison.” He stood, looking about them for his nearest kindred. He shouted and another elf was there. “We need to get you into the keep.”

Ariel was listing as Glorfindel lifted her into his arms. The other elf gathered up her bow and quiver.

The infirmary was thick with the injured, Glorfindel bypassed it for the hall, clearer by far. “Aragorn,” he called.

“What is it my friend?”

“Poison. I need your help.” Glorfindel set her down on a clear table. “It’s working quickly. I’m not sure of the identity.”

Aragorn sniffed the wound and dabbed some of her blood with a bit of cloth, grabbing up a cup and dropping the cloth inside. He added a touch of salt, frowning a moment at the contents. “Goblin poison. We can treat this. Stay still, young man.”

Ariel nodded.

Aragorn ripped the tear in her trousers wider. “I need my bag.”

Glorfindel nodded, rushing to the pile of packs and pulling Aragorn’s field medicine kit free. He tossed it to the man, who caught it easily and set it on the bench.

“How long ago were you hit?” Aragorn asked, digging into the bag for a few items. “Glorfindel, spirits if you can find them.”

“Of course.”

Ariel blinked against the flurry of activity. “I—it was no more than a half hour. The battle was near over.”

“All right.” Aragorn took the bottle of spirits from Glorfindel, pouring a measure over the wound.

It stung, and Ariel swore sharply in Elvish.

Aragorn raised his eyebrows at her. “I did not know the Rohan taught their children Elvish.”

“I am not of Rohan,” she replied.

Aragorn shook his head and pulled out a small mortar and pestle, grinding together a combination of herbs. The first of these he mixed with a tallow to make a paste, smearing it across the wound and applying a bandage.

“We’ll need hot water, the rest should be brewed and drunk.”

Glorfindel found a tin cup, filling it with water. “We should brew it as it heats.”

Aragorn nodded, dumping the remaining mixture into the water. He set it over the fire, watching closely. When the preparation was complete, he dumped it into a new mug to let the brew cool a touch.

Ariel was weaker, trying and failing to sit up. Aragorn gently lifted her head, helping her drink.

“You must drink it all down, lad.”

Glorfindel watched closely. “My own healers have fallen, Aragorn. This must work.”

Aragorn made certain the brew and herbs were drunk down and laid a hand on the bandage. “I have seen this work before on one farther gone. The lad is strong and young, he’ll—be fine.” Aragorn frowned, taking a far closer look at the “lad”.

“Good. He saved my life, I like to return the favor.”

“Aragorn,” Legolas strode into the hall, Gimli fast behind him. “There you are. What’s this?”

“The boy was poisoned,” Glorfindel said.

Legolas moved closer. “I spoke to this boy. He named his mother, Mithien.”

Aragorn froze. “Mithien?” He turned back to the lad. “I knew a woman with that name.”

Ariel fell into a deep sleep, the brew to heal pulling her into slumber.

“We should move the lad,” Gimli said. “Table can’t be comfortable to sleep on.”

“A bedroll by the fire would be best,” Aragorn replied. “He’ll need to stay warm. And we should get the armor off.”

Gimli grabbed a bedroll from the packs, laying it out quickly by the fire.

Aragorn started to strip off Ariel’s armor. Setting aside the weapon’s belt first. Glorfindel helped sit the girl up so they could pull the chainmail off. He checked for other injuries as he went, but Ariel had been fortunate.

“Does anyone know his name?” Aragorn asked.

“No,” Legolas shook his head.

“Nor I,” Glorfindel replied.

“Well, something to ask when he wakes.” Aragorn lifted Ariel from the table and laid her out on the bedroll. He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “So long as there is no fever, he should wake in the morning.”

Perhaps then, Aragorn would have answer to a question he had born for some seventeen years.

***

Ariel woke by the fire, sitting up and looking about her. “What happened?”

Gimli was there, puffing on a pipe. “You took a scrape from a poisoned arrow, lad. But you’ll be fine.”

Ariel nodded. “I remember, now.”

“You’re awake,” Aragorn strode forward. “How do you feel?” He knelt, placing a hand on her forehead. “You had Glorfindel quite worried.”

“I feel much better, thank you, my lord.” She managed a smile.

“I would know your name.” Aragorn looked into her eyes. Green eyes. Like Mithien.

Ariel bit her lip. He’d know in a moment the truth if she gave her proper name. But he knew she was not of Rohan, the name she knew best to pull from were of Rohan. Her brain stuttered, refusing to provide an alias. “Ariel,” she spat quickly.

Aragorn blinked. “Ariel.” He put a hand on her chin, pulling her gaze back to him. “A strong name, for a strong lass.”

“Lass?” Gimli coughed.

“Yes,” she replied. “But no less of an archer for it.” She set her shoulders, glaring at the dwarf.

“No offense intended, my girl.”

“Do you have family?” Aragorn asked. “Your father?”

Ariel shook her head. “I am the ward of Fulgrim. I do not know if he survived the battle. I’ve not seen him.” And she had no hope for his survival.

Aragorn nodded. “We ride for Isengard soon, you should remain. Return to Edoras with the injured. The poison will leave you weak for some days yet.”

“I do not feel weak.” She made to stand—and toppled back onto her rear. She winced at the sting.

“As I said. You need time.”

“I see my good luck charm has awoken,” Glorfindel strode into the room. “How does he fair?”

“She fairs quite well,” Aragorn replied. “Meet Ariel, daughter of Mithien.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Well met, Ariel.”

“Well met.” She nodded.

“Are you joining those headed back to Edoras?” Aragorn asked.

“I am,” Glorfindel replied.

“Then you can escort your luck charm.” Aragorn smiled and stood. “She’ll need to ride. She shouldn’t be walking that distance.”

“I’ll see to it.”

Aragorn strode a distance away from Ariel, pulling Glorfindel close to whisper. “There is something else you must know.”

Glorfindel frowned.

“Mithien, she was a comfort to my father once some years ago before his death. Do you understand?”

Glorfindel looked back at the girl and then to Aragorn. “Ariel…named well.”

“Indeed.” Aragorn took a breath. “Keep her from harm.”

“And will you tell her?”

“I will find a way to explain.” He took a deep breath. “For now, just keep her safe. If her guardian still lives, I would speak to him.”

Eowyn was next in the hall. “My lord Aragorn, my uncle is readying for Isengard.”

“Of course. You return to Edoras?”

“I do.” She frowned. “Though I could fight with you.”

“I have another request of you, my lady.” He pulled her into the small circle of himself and Glorfindel. “The girl by the fire, Ariel, I need you to keep her safe. She is weak from poison, but the weakness will pass.”

Eowyn look to Ariel. “We met briefly before the siege. She assured me that you had not fallen to warg. Her confidence was unshaking.” Eowyn licked her lips. “Her guardian, Fulgrim, he has fallen. Do you intend to watch over her now?”

“She is…she is not what she seems,” Aragorn replied. “Keep her safe.”

“I will, my lord.”

“Thank you, Eowyn.” He smiled gently and clasped her hand. “I will see you in Edoras.”

Ariel sighed. She could not argue, she could not stand. And the sense seemed to have left her, for the time. Whatever came next, she could only trust that those riding to Isengard would return.

***

Edoras was a flurry of activity as those returned from Isengard. Ariel stood with Eowyn on the porch of the golden hall as the leaders rode up. She felt awkward in one of Eowyn’s dresses, but her own clothes had been lost to the travails of travel. They could be anywhere in the Riddermark, she did not know.

“Uncle,” Eowyn greeted the king. “What of Isengard?”

“Isengard has fallen.” He smiled. “It is no longer a threat.”

Ariel spotted the hobbits, and blinked with some confusion before realizing what they were. _Shirefolk._ She’d never seen them before.

“I see you have a new handmaiden,” Theoden looked to Ariel. “You were Fulgrim’s ward?”

“Yes, my king. He fell.”

“I am sorry.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She nodded.

Aragorn found her next, smiling at Eowyn first and turning to Ariel. “We must speak, you and I.”

She nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

“Perhaps now?”

Ariel sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Do excuse me, my lady.”

“Of course.”

Aragorn led Ariel away from the hall to a quiet little hill. He’d confided already in Gandalf, who confirmed the truth with some surprise. Mithien’s child had been a rumor at best.

“Do you know your father’s name?” Aragorn asked.

“I do.” She looked him in the eyes. “As do you, Aragorn.”

“I do. Will you speak it? Speak of your lineage aloud?”

She swallowed. “I am Ariel, daughter of Arathorn.”

“My father should have died soon after I was born,” Aragorn said. “He was lucky to only lose an eye. His luck failed him, however, seventeen years ago. He fell in battle. But he had a friend. A daughter of the Dunedain, Mithien. She bore him a child. A child secreted away.”

Ariel nodded. “Mother told me.”

“And where is she now?”

“She fell.” Ariel swallowed. “She was dying when she brought me to Rohan. She is buried in the hills.”

“And your guardian, Fulgrim, how did she choose him? Why not leave you with the elves?”

“I don’t know. She did not confide that in me. I was only ten.”

“I’m sorry.” He reached out, taking her hand. “I will see you safe now, sister.”

“I felt—I knew as the battle unfolded what I had to do. I could feel it. When the darkness came. When the light broke through. I knew I had to be there. I had to be on the wall. I was there to save Glorfindel. I sense darkness now, but I do not know it’s scope.”

Aragorn looked into her eyes. “It is a gift some of the Dunedain find. And you—you are a daughter of two strong lines. Your mother saw these things as well.”

Ariel swallowed. “I feel safe here, in Edoras, but I do not think it will be safe for me to remain.”

“We shall see. There is a celebration to see to this evening. I wish to introduce you to my company. I shall confide in those closest. Your secret will stay with a small circle.” He pulled a small silver pendant from his pocket. “This was my mother’s, to go to a daughter of the house of Isildur. I give it to you, so that you may remember.”

He carefully clasped the chain about her neck.

“Thank you…brother.”

He smiled. “I had thought myself an only child, but I am glad to have a sister.” He kissed her cheek. “Come now.”

Ariel followed her brother back to the golden hall. She felt—peculiar. She had never thought to meet Aragorn. She’d no notion of her mother’s plans. If they would have met had this war not brought them together.

Aragorn moved through the crowd in the hall. The soldiers were moving about, settling into one of the rooms set aside for their berth. Aragorn found Legolas, giving him a look and nodding toward the side hall. Legolas nodded back.

He spotted Eowyn next, closing the distance between them. “I need to speak with you and Theoden.”

“Of course,” she looked at Ariel. “Where?”

“The hall there,” he pointed.

Legolas fetched Gimli and Glorfindel, and quickly, the small gathering took to the hall. Guards took up post outside it, giving them privacy.

“What is of such importance so soon before we celebrate?” Theoden asked.

Aragorn pulled Ariel forward by her elbow. “You know Ariel?”

“I do.”

“She is the daughter of Arathorn. My sister.”

There were quiet sounds of surprise. Legolas blinked. “She does rather look like you.”

“Indeed,” Glorfindel nodded. “Though somewhat prettier.”

Ariel blushed.

“Yes, well, her guardian fell at Helm’s Deep. I would see her safe, far from the battle.”

“Of course,” Theoden replied. “We will find safe harbor for princess of Gondor.”

Ariel ducked her head, feeling ridiculous. “I can fight, Aragorn. You know this. I do not wish to be put away on a shelf.”

“You are sixteen,” Aragorn replied. “A child yet. You fought Helm’s Deep, and bravely, but I can protect you now, and I will.”

She shook her head. “I do not want to be protected!”

“That is not your decision, little sister.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “You will obey me in this.”

Ariel did not speak, unable to find words that would not be poisonous.

Eowyn sympathized.

“Now then, let us celebrate.” Theoden smiled. “For victory, and family.”

“Indeed.”

***

Ariel sat out of the way of the carousing. Glorfindel found her there. “Are you sulking, my luck?”

“I am simply staying out of the way, my lord.”

“Sulking then.” He smiled. “The children of your line have always been prone to sulking. Aragorn only wishes you safe. He has just found you, Ariel. Losing you now…I doubt he could bear it.”

“I have to follow my sensings. It’s how I saved you. What if I am _meant_ to be in the next battle?”

“I do not know.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Only time will tell. You must be patient.”

Gimli fell over, drawing Ariel’s gaze. “I suppose that contest is over then.”

“Indeed. Elvish spirits are much stronger, if they’d had some I can tell you Legolas would be in near the same state.”

Ariel smiled.

“Aha, a smile. A precious gift indeed.”

“Did you know my father?”

“For a time. He came to the home of Elrond. He was a good man who died too soon.” Glorfindel sighed. “What do you sense of the battles to come? We know not where the enemy will strike next.”

Ariel frowned, closing her eyes.

“Concentrate on the feeling,” he said softly. “Let them come to you.”

She took a deep breath, feeling a sensing overcome her. “The white tree will burn.” She opened her eyes, looking at Glorfindel. “The white tree. Gondor. Minas Tirith. He attacks Minas Tirith.”

He took her hand. “Breathe, Ariel. Calm and breathe.”

“Is something wrong?” Aragorn asked.

“She has seen something.” Glorfindel looked up at him. “Minas Tirith. Burning.”

Aragorn knelt in front of his sister. “Ariel?”

“A white tree, on fire.” Her eyes were wide, hands trembling. “I saw it. Aragorn, Gondor is in danger.”

***

Ariel slept little, haunted by the burning tree. Gandalf found her on the hall’s broad steps, staring out at the sliver of the rising sun.

“You are troubled. We will warn Gondor, I will ride there.”

She nodded. “You must take Pippin.”

Gandalf tilted his head, sitting down next to her. “You are certain of this?”

“I am. I do not know why. But he must be with you in Minas Tirith. I can feel it.”

“This gift is strong in you. Stronger I think, because of the growing darkness. What else have you seen, Ariel?”

“It is sensings, more than visions. I know my brother fears for a love. I know she is safe for the time. I can feel the dark but I also feel light. There is a powerful light, and it will not so easily be snuffed out.” She sighed. “But I do not know the outcome of this war. I do not sense that far afield. There are too many factors.”

“That is the trouble with foresight of any kind. Possibilities.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “You will control it better in time.”

“I hope you are right.”

“As do I.” He hugged her gently. “Come, you should eat. Your brother will worry.”

Ariel stood and helped him to his feet. “I wonder if Mother saw something of these days. Before she died. Saw something that led her to bring me to Fulgrim.”

“Do you grieve for him?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He was at best a warden.” She swallowed. “When I heard he fell…I was happy.” She did not wish to dwell on him now. He’d been cruel, and she did not care to remember.

Gandalf nodded. “Come then.” He escorted her back into the hall. “I found our wandering girl.”

Aragorn smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Ariel sat at the table.

“Young Master Took,” Gandalf looked to Pippin. “Get your things together, my lad. You come with me to Minas Tirith.”

“Why?”

“Because I have asked.”

“Oh. I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Gandalf and Pippin rode out right after breakfast. They would wait until the beacons were lit. Until Gondor called for aid. Ariel had overheard Aragorn argue about it with Theoden. He wanted to leave now.

He kept vigil and Ariel watched him until Legolas drew her away.

“Yes?” She eyed the tall elf.

“I thought you would prefer to spend your time another way.” He held out her bow. “You have a gift, but it could be refined.”

“Are you offering me instruction?”

“I am.” He smiled. “We could both use a bit of a distraction.”

Ariel wasn’t going to say no to lessons from him. “Thank you.”

He nodded and they headed off to find a good target to shoot at.

***

The beacon was lit and Edoras was alive with activity once again. Ariel was to stay. She didn’t want to, but she could not see a way around it. The last meal she would share with her brother was tense.

“Do not be so glum, Ariel,” Eowyn sat next to her. “The ladies of the court ride to the encampment to farewell our men. It’s tradition. You’ll come with me.”

Aragorn couldn’t argue with tradition. Eowyn knew it, and smiled.

Ariel rather liked having her as a partner in crime, as it were. “Thank you, my lady.” She felt much lighter.

Aragorn sighed. He’d thought four hobbits were difficult to herd. Two women with lion’s hearts and a desire for valor? That was an entirely new challenge.

***

Ariel bunked with Eowyn, though she found the nearby mountain path set her hackles up. There was something terribly uneasy about it, even the horses seemed less calm in the shadow of the mountain.

There was a presence there, something lurking, waiting.

It felt like the past and present and the future all wrapped into one thing. She didn’t want to think about that feeling though. She didn’t understand it. She did understand her current simmer of anger.

It was a common enough emotion for her. She strode through the camp, spotting her brother and stalking toward him. “Where is my bow?”

Aragorn turned to her, expression mild. “Your bow?”

“Yes, my bow. It was with my things, now it is not.” Her dagger was also missing, but she preferred to concentrate on one theft at a time.

“You’ll get it back when you return to Edoras.”

Ariel’s brow furrowed. “You can’t do that.” She kept her volume low, but the tone was sharp.

“I can.” Aragorn took her elbow and pulled her closer. “Protecting you means on occasion, protecting you from yourself.”

“I do not _need_ protection!”

One of Theoden’s personal guard approached them, somewhat uneasy at the aura of their conversation. “There is a messenger here for you, my lord, at the king’s tent.”

Aragorn did not loosen his grasp on Ariel. “Thank you. Come along, Ariel.” He did not know who this messenger was, but their conversation was not yet done. He’d prefer her at hand.

Ariel flushed, turning her attention to the ground as her brother towed her along. He paused outside the king’s tent. “Stay here. I will return.” He pointed at a spot. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Wait with her, please?” he glanced at the nearest guard.

“Yes, my lord.”

Ariel seethed. The guard looked away.

Moments ticked by, but Aragorn strode back out of the tent, a sword in hand that Ariel did not recognize. He beckoned to her. “There is someone you need to meet.”

Her anger was not forgotten, but she was curious enough to do as he asked, following him into the tent. An Elf stood there, in a dark blue cloak, his expression serious and somewhat uncertain.

“My lord Elrond,” Aragorn pushed Ariel forward. “May I present Ariel, daughter of Arathorn and Mithien.”

The formality took Ariel by surprise, but she recognized the name. _Elrond._

Elrond’s expression softened, closing the gap between him and the teenager. “You have your mother’s eyes.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She swallowed.

“Would you take her to Rivendell?” Aragorn asked. “She would be safe there.”

Ariel turned to Aragorn. “No.”

“Ariel,” he raised a hand.

“First you tell me to stay in Edoras. Then you take my bow and now you want to send me even farther from the battle? I will _not_ go.” She did not stamp her foot or toss her head. She was going to present as mature a front as possible. She was battle tested already. She did not deserve to be sent away.

“I am reminded suddenly of someone else as a tween,” Elrond said fondly. “I can take her to Rivendell, Aragorn.”

Aragorn met his sister’s angry gaze. “You will go to Rivendell. There is no argument you can make that will sway me.”

She moved to storm away, and he grabbed her elbow.

“I must take the mountain path come morning, Ariel. I must know that you will be safe.”

“And why am I not allowed the same?” She pulled free. “I’m not going to Rivendell.”

“Yes, you are. Get your things together in the morning, you will leave with Elrond at first light. Do not make him search for you. He has raised many sons of our line, I have little doubt he can handle you.”

She flushed. “I am not a horse to be broken.”

“No,” Aragorn said. “But you are young. You are my sister. I met you and nearly lost you in the same day. That poison could have killed you. I am sending you to safety.” He put a hand on her arm. “We will meet again in Minas Tirith when the war is over.”

Ariel shook her head, pulling her arm free. “If I am fated to be in that battle, nothing you do will stop it.”

“I do not believe that battle is your fate.” Aragorn turned to Elrond. “Thank you, truly.”

“Of course.” Elrond turned to Ariel. “Aragorn is correct. You will be far safer in Rivendell. More, I take seriously that he has entrusted you to me. I will be waiting for you in the morning.” He met her gaze.

Ariel held that gaze for a long moment before turning and running from the tent.

“She is strong,” Elrond said. “She is also right. Fate could bring her to that battle. I cannot see her fate. Something hid her from my sight these years. There is something else there, however, that does concern me.”

Aragorn’s brow furrowed.

“There is pain. Not the grief, but something else. She has not been treated kindly, Aragorn. She is strong, but fragile. You must take care.”

“I will.”

Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. “I will do everything in my power to protect her.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Aragorn had faith in Elrond. He did not have nearly as much faith that his sister was capable of obeying his instructions. For the brief time he had known her, he had seen a certain rebellious streak in her that was all too familiar. If she could avoid Elrond, he’d little doubt she would. And there was no time left for him to attempt to reel her in. When this was over, if they won, he would have to apply himself to raising her.

_If we win._

***

Ariel returned to Eowyn’s tent and found she was not the only one of the pair in a foul mood.

“What happened?” Ariel asked.

“My brother is being an ass,” she replied.

“So is mine. He wishes to send me to Rivendell come morning.” She bit her lip.

“Rivendell?” Eowyn shook her head. “What is it with these men? We have as much right to fight for our people.”

“I agree.”

“Then there is only thing to do.” Eowyn stood, opening the chest at the end of her cot. Inside was a set of armor, helm and weapons. “We go and fight.”

Ariel took a deep breath. Her sense was silent on this. This was her choice. It was not going to help her with this. “Yes. We fight. But I need a way to avoid the keeper my brother has assigned to take me to Rivendell.”

“Don’t worry,” Eowyn smiled. “I can help with that as well.”

***

Eowyn did indeed help with that as well. She was dear friends with many of the other ladies of the court, and one in particular could pass well enough for Ariel with a cloak and a slouch. Ariel saw her brother off at the mountain pass, uneasy but hopeful. Elrond was waiting for her with a horse. Eowyn and two ladies of the court followed her. Merry, as another co-conspirator, provided a quick bit of distraction. Hobbits. Versatile creatures.

The lady and Ariel swapped places quickly. With luck, he would not notice until they broke for midday, and by then it should be too late. He had to return to Rivendell with some haste. Eowyn found a new bow for Ariel, armor as well. The pair were disguised and mounted with the rest of Theoden’s riders. Eowyn took Merry. Ariel tamped down the fear in the pit of her stomach. She’d made her choice.

She would live with it.

***

The battlefield was thick with cries and screams. Orcish shouts and the loud trumpet of the great beasts the Southern men had brought with them to battle. Ariel had lost track of her horse. She concentrated on keeping some distance between her and the horde. She ran out of arrows and was forced into the field to find more.

She drew her sword, hurrying along and pulling what whole arrows she could from corpses until finally lucking across a half-full quiver. Her attention was drawn to the sky by a harsh cry. A flying beast dove down toward a small group of Riders on foot near one of the fallen oliphaunts. Ariel headed toward them. She spotted Merry first, and then Eowyn—and Theoden pinned.

She watched in awe as Eowyn hacked off the beast’s head. She felt frozen. And then she felt a burst of pain and stumbled forward with the impact of an arrow through her shoulder. She turned in time to see the orc archer behind her. She pulled a knife from her belt and threw it, connecting with a thud into his neck.

She snapped the head from the arrow in her shoulder, gripping at the length sticking at the back of her shoulder and tugging quickly. It hurt, but not so much as it had going in. She tore a piece from her cloak, stuffing it under the strap of her quiver to hold it to the front of the wound.

She could not draw a bow well enough with such a wound. She sent up a prayer. There were still far too many orcs. Too many men against them. The battle seemed on the cusp of failure and her senses had left her alone this entire time.

The Witch King was on Eowyn, and Ariel was frozen in place. But Merry was there, stabbing the creature in the leg and Eowyn—Eowyn struck the mortal blow against the powerful creature. Moments later, a new force came from the south. Ghostly creatures. Caught in awe, Ariel did not see the goblin come from behind, striking a blow to her back the chain only just absorbed. But she fell to her knees. She caught the next strike with her own blade and shoved him off just long enough to skewer him. Her legs were numb and she collapsed under the dead goblin’s weight. It seemed like an age, but the ghosts swarmed over the orcs and the men and soon the battlefield was clear but for their allies still standing, the dead and injured.

Ariel caught a familiar voice shout out—it was Aragorn, she was sure of it. A great quiet settled over the field, but Ariel could not move. Her arms were heavy. She saw the ghosts vanish. Soldiers were picking through the dead for the injured. She heard a horrible cry and tried to shift the body off her again.

“Search carefully,” Aragorn ordered. “If Eowyn is here, Merry is surely as well.”

“Something moves there,” Legolas said. He moved toward the goblin corpse, shifting it off of Ariel. Her helmet was still on, hiding her face. “We’ve a survivor here, Aragorn.” Legolas pulled her free of the other corpses. “Lad, are you awake?”

“Get the helmet off,” Aragorn said. “We need a stretcher here!”

Legolas unbuckled the helmet and slipped it off. “Oh no.”

“What is it?”

“Ariel.” Legolas looked up at Aragorn. “It’s Ariel.”

***

Aragorn first went to Eowyn, her need was more dire, while the healers worked on Ariel. Legolas stayed with her as other members of the company came in and out.

“She will be fine,” the healer said. “The shoulder wound is clean enough. There are some contusions and scrapes, but most of this is exhaustion.”

“Good,” Legolas breathed. “Lord Aragorn will be pleased to hear that.”

“If I may,” the healer peered at him closely. “Who is this girl?”

Aragorn arrived in time to hear the question. “My sister, Ariel.”

“My lord.” The healer bowed. “She will be fine.”

“Thank you.”

The healer slipped out.

“Eowyn is recovering,” Aragorn said. “Eomer sits with her. I do not think he will leave her side for some time.”

“He thought her dead,” Legolas said. “And he’s lost his uncle. It is understandable.”

Aragorn nodded, taking a seat by Ariel’s bed. He took her hand. “We are both cursed with foolhardy sisters it seems.” He swallowed. “Word arrived, apparently one of other ladies of the court switched places with her. Elrond did not realize until they stopped for the day. It was too late then, he had to return to Rivendell.”

Legolas nodded. “She is a tricky one.”

“She’s in trouble, is what she is.” Aragorn shook his head.

Ariel woke to find her brother still holding her hand. “Aragorn?”

“I’m here.”

“Is Eowyn all right? Merry?”

“They are fine,” he assured her. “Theoden fell.”

Ariel nodded, blinking back tears. “Any others?”

“No. Legolas is here. Glorfindel is stalking about. Pippin is with Merry and Gandalf is coordinating our next moves.” Aragorn smiled. “I believe Gimli is trying to find ale.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“I am not sure.” His expression sharpened. “Though you will have no part of it, little one.”

She bit her lip.

“When you are more recovered, you and I need to have a discussion about your disobedience.” He brushed hair away from her face. “You were to be in Rivendell.”

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead. “Rest now.”

Aragorn saw to it his sister was confined to the Houses of Healing. She was in good company, Eowyn too was stuck there and she introduced Ariel to Faramir. Ariel often saw them together, and felt a light there. A promise of future and hope. She heard the rumors of a plan to draw the enemy out. To give the ringbearer his best chance at destroying the ring. Ariel was calm.

She watched her brother ride out, heart somewhat heavy at being left behind, but she still could not draw a bow and if she was being truthful, she did not wish to draw her brother’s ire further. So she waited and watched. They were so far away the army became a wave of white and green against the sandy field.

She felt it. A release as the tower of Sauron collapsed. As the eye went out—and the mountain exploded.

Whatever happened next, the war was over.

***

The white tree bloomed. Ariel felt strange, watching her brother’s coronation from Eowyn and Faramir’s side. They’d ensured she was dressed for this event. Her gown blue and embroidered with white trees, a silver coronet resting on her hair. She felt out of place. But Aragorn smiled at her.

And the elves came. Ariel felt such a light. A pure happiness that prickled over her skin. There was an elvish woman there, a dark haired beauty. She and Aragorn stared at each for a long moment before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with passion. Ariel blushed and turned away.

They were drawn forward to see those four hobbits who had shown such strength. Ariel bowed with everyone else. Finally though, they were herded into the great hall for the proper festivities.

“Lady Ariel,” Pippin stopped her. “Wasn’t that something? Lady Arwen, I mean.”

Ariel smiled. “It is good to see my brother so happy.”

“I hear he’s still a bit peeved with you.”

“He is that.” She shook her head. “Yet I think had I the choice to make again, I would make the same one.”

“I don’t know that such a statement would help your cause.” Pippin smiled. “Aragorn is very particular about people obeying his orders.”

“Are you attempting to forewarn me, Master Peregrin?”

“Pippin, if you please, my lady.”

“Then you ought to call me Ariel, the lady is too new to seem real.”

He smiled. “Ariel. Yes, I am trying to warn you. Aragorn has a hard hand.”

Ariel flushed. “I’m near seventeen, he wouldn’t.”

“I’m a grown hobbit, consider that.” He tapped his nose. “I’m off to find a good pint.”

Oddly enough, it was Eomer who found her next. “Lady Ariel.”

She looked up at the soon to be crowned king of Rohan and smiled. “My lord Eomer.”

“I wish to apologize to you.”

Ariel blinked. “For what?”

“I remember the day you came to the hall. You were fourteen. Your eye was black. You tried to get someone to listen to you, but we all knew Fulgrim. We trusted him.” Eomer shook his head. “Theoden had long been ill. I should have listened.”

She swallowed. “Fulgrim is dead. I do not blame you.” She looked back at him. “Truly.” She clasped his hand. “There is nothing to forgive.”

His expression softened. “You are very kind.”

“You may be the first to say so.”

He laughed. “I will not be the last, I am certain.”

Ariel smiled.

“You have managed to make my sister smile,” Aragorn said. “A rare occurrence. I must steal her away now, there’s someone she needs to meet.”

“Of course.” Eomer nodded.

Aragorn offered his arm to Ariel. She took it, nodding goodbye to Eomer before her brother led her to the elvish delegation. Lord Elrond raised his eyebrows at her a moment, promising, no doubt, a later discussion. Arwen stepped forward, looking into Ariel’s eyes.

“Ariel, may I introduce Arwen Undómiel, my bride. Arwen, this is my sister, Ariel.”

“I can see your brother in you, Ariel,” Arwen said softly. “You will grow into a fine woman. I can see it.”

“Thank you, my lady, and well met. I can see the love my brother has for you.” Ariel smiled.

Arwen smiled back. “You and I will be sisters soon. I do hope we may also be friends.”

“I would like that.” Ariel was still swimming in unfamiliar waters here, still trying to get a feel for her brother, for these new relationships, but she wanted him to be happy.

“We still have one more announcement to make today,” Aragorn said. “For you, Ariel.”

She turned to her brother. “What?”

“I plan to present you as the princess of Gondor and Arnor.” He gestured to someone nearby and Faramir approached them. “Faramir has agreed to put together your personal guard. I trust his judgement.”

“Personal guard?” Ariel raised her eyebrows.

“That’s correct,” Faramir said. “A dozen or so men to start, I think. We’ll settle the details later this week.”

“Wonderful.” She took a breath.

Aragorn hid a smile. “Now then, come along.” He took her by the elbow again and led her toward the throne, heading up the stairs. Faramir followed, calling for silence. The entire room turned toward the throne. “My dear friends, it brings me great joy to see you all here. It has been day long coming for me. For my bride. For Gondor. But also, for someone who has spent the last sixteen years in hiding.” He smiled at Ariel. “My sister, Ariel, daughter of Arathorn, princess of Gondor.”  

All eyes were on her.

Faramir took his cue from Aragorn, bowing deeply to the newly revealed princess. The rest of the room followed. Panic rose in Ariel’s chest and she grasped Aragorn’s hand.

“Deep breaths,” he whispered gently. “You’re doing well.” He led her back down the steps. Her hands were shaking. “It’s all right.”

“It is entirely unfair of you to spring this on me,” she whispered back.

He smiled. “There is nothing that could have prepared you in time.”

She took a deep breath, smiling at everyone who came forward to greet her. Her smile grew strained though, and Eowyn took note, ferrying the girl away before strained turned to anger. It was a joyful affair, it would best if Ariel’s temper not interrupt that. The coronation celebration went well into the night. Ariel only went to bed because Faramir generously escorted her to her rooms.

Rooms, she’d noted, were larger even than the house she had shared with Fulgrim. The bed was a decided advantage and she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

***

Preparations were being made for the company to depart Minas Tirith. The hobbits were ready to go home. Ariel watched some of the preparations from the balcony off her rooms, sitting on the railing.

Which was where Aragorn found her. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Ariel nodded. “I…I’m not sure I know how to do any of this. Be the princess of Gondor. Be the daughter of Arathorn. Be your sister.” She looked at him. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“I know.” He put a hand on her cheek. “But you can learn. As I learn. This will grow easier.”

“I hope so.”

“Now, however, it is time we had that discussion.”

Ariel blinked. “About my not going to Rivendell?”

“Yes.” He helped her down from the railing and led her back into her room. “You terrified Elrond. You terrified me.” He sat her down on the edge of her bed, standing over her with his arms crossed. “Your disobedience could have killed you,” he said. “Do you understand that?”

Ariel nodded.

“You were lucky, very lucky. You are an excellent archer. You are skilled. But you are also still a child.”

“Younger than I fought in Helm’s Deep.”

“For necessity’s sake and not by my order.” He tilted his head. “I gave you an order. An order you disobeyed.”

“Yes.” She eyed his expression. “Yes, sir.”

“You have pushed. You have had an attitude of rebellion. That ends now. We are entering a time of peace. There will still be times when you will be expected to obey orders. There will still be dangers I wish to shield you from.” He sat down next to her. “Which brings me to a task I do not wish to repeat with any frequency.”

Ariel flushed. “Pippin mentioned you had a hard hand.”

“Pippin and Merry proved themselves rapscallions more than once.” Aragorn shook his head. “I am rather hoping you turn out to be more sensible.” He adjusted his position and held a hand out to her. “The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over.”

“I…I cannot promise to take this with grace.”

“That’s all right.” He smiled. “If it reassures you at all, you are not the only one being chastised for misbehavior.”

It did, a little. Ariel took his hand. Aragorn pulled her over his lap, adjusting her position with care.

“I do this because I love you,” he said softly. “And I do love you, Araneth.”

She blinked back tears.

“Now, tell me little one, why are you here?”

He’d just told her, but she found it difficult to say herself.

Aragorn could see the tautness of her shoulders, feel the struggle there, and gave her a swat in encouragement.

She yelped.

“Tell me why you are here.”

“Because you love me,” she whispered. “And I disobeyed you.”

He smiled. “That’s right, Araneth.” He held her tight. “As for taking this with grace, feel free to kick and cry all you like. I won’t look at it as a weakness.” The talking evidently done, he began his chastisement. His calloused hand connecting with her soft behind.

Ariel was a strong girl, but the emotional state she was in, that soft admission, had paved the way for quick tears. She was still through the first fifteen odd swats, but after that her brother’s chastisement had her wriggling to free herself. She kicked and cried and tried to push off his lap with no success.

“Aragorn!” she cried.

“I know, it hurts, but we’re not done yet.” He took hold of one of her arms, trapping it at the small of her back. “You’re being very brave for me, Araneth.”

The nickname made her cheeks flush, but her heart warmed. She’d only had the one name for her life, her brother had dozens. It was nice to have another all her own. One he had given her.

Not so nice was the building heat in her hindquarters.

Aragorn, however, was rather determined to impart a strong lesson to his strong-willed sister. He never enjoyed disciplining anyone, but this was his sister. The hobbits endeared a similar burst of paternal mien in him. He’d not do her any favors though, by half measures. So he continued, making his point with sharp precision until she was thoroughly repentant.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, Ara. I’m sorry.”

“I know, Araneth, we’re done here. All is forgiven.” He released her arm and rubbed her back in long slow circles, giving her time to regain a modicum of composure before folding her up into his arms, head pressed to his shoulder where he could comfort her more easily. He recalled an old lullaby his mother sang to him and softly sang it to her, smoothing her hair and rocking gently. She gripped his tunic loosely with one hand, eyes closing. This embrace had been long coming, but more, he was quite certain she’d finally cried out some of the tears she’d been holding in since the battle. He knew she had nightmares from his vigils at her bedside in the Houses of Healing.

She felt safer there, than she had in many years. She always felt safer with Aragorn.

“Feeling better now?” Aragorn asked as she lifted her head from his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “As for you feeling out of place. I will arrange lessons. Elvish, dancing, politics, whatever you need.” He smiled. “And of course, your martial lessons can continue. Legolas seems keen to improve your archery and sword skills. He intends to go home for a brief time, but will return. Faramir will teach you in the meantime.”

“And my personal guard?”

“A discussion for another day. Now, it is time for lunch.”

Ariel sighed.

“But for your future reference, Araneth, if you try to slip your guard detail, my displeasure will be evidenced just as it was today.”

“Yes, sir.”

He helped her to her feet. Ariel resisted the temptation to rub her hindquarters. She didn’t want to look any more childish. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and escorted her to lunch.


	2. After the War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has settled to some degree into their roles, a year after the war's end. 
> 
>  
> 
> *Warning, contains spanking

_One year later_

The palace was busily preparing for the arrival of Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth and uncle to Faramir. The prince had come to Minas Tirith before, but it was still an auspicious event. In particular as everyone knew well that Eomer and Lothíriel, Imrahil’s daughter, were to be wed. Aragorn was sitting with Faramir, going over some finer details, when an exasperated lady of the court entered the room.

“My king,” she said. “I have lost track of Princess Ariel. Again.”

“Lost track or has she slipped off?”

“The latter, I suspect.”

Aragorn sighed. “Faramir, could you have her guard search for her? We’ve little enough time before your uncle arrives. I expect my sister to be there to greet him.”

“I’ll find her, my lord.” Faramir smiled. “I’m sure she hasn’t wandered far.”

“Check the high places, she’s taken to climbing lately.”

“I remember.” Faramir stood, nodding to his king and heading out. He spotted a pair of men from Ariel’s personal detail and gestured for them to follow him. “The princess has slipped off.”

One of the guard sighed. “She’s a slippery one.”

“Check the heights, the gardens and the libraries. I’m sure she was just bored of etiquette lessons.” Faramir couldn’t precisely blame her. She was nearing eighteen, and though she would not be counted as an adult for another two years, she’d began to grow into her height and was beginning to draw far too much attention for her brother’s comfort.

Those green eyes had always sparkled, but she’d gained some weight and muscle, losing the too lean look she’d once had. Long dark curls still framed her face, though they were generally free of tangles now, and while she was as apt to be in trousers as she was a gown, she wore both with far more confidence.

Faramir went out to search the high places of the palace. If she’d left the palace, her guard would be gone as well. Ariel had at least enough sense and self-preservation not to leave the grounds without them. Well, she did _now_ , it had taken some time for Aragorn to instill the lesson.

He spotted the hawk first, circling over one of the courtyard towers. Faramir sighed and headed toward it. He saw Ariel next, on the roof, holding onto the flag pole at the peak of the roof. Her hair blew out in the wind like a banner.

She wouldn’t hear a shout, but she usually heard a whistle. He whistled three times. A moment later, her face peered over the edge of the roof. He could guess at her expression. He pointed at the ground expectantly. On the roof, Ariel sighed. She climbed down into the closest window, heading down through the tower stairs. Faramir was waiting for her at the bottom.

“Imrahil will be here in an hour, you are not ready.” He gave her a look. “And you slipped away from Lady Dareth.”

“Lady Dareth is insufferable.” Ariel combed her fingers through her hair, looking up to the sky at the hawk. “He needed to fly.”

“He needed to fly, or you needed to fly?” Faramir raised an eyebrow.

“Both.” She smiled. “Are you going to tell my brother?”

“Not unless he asks. And he will ask.”

“I was perfectly safe.”

“I know, but your brother doesn’t see your habit of climbing every tall surface that way.” He shook his head. “Come along, the ladies need to get you ready.”

“I heard there have been orcs sighted in the nearby wilds,” she remarked, pulling on her falconry glove and holding it up, waiting for the hawk patiently.

“There have.” He was not surprised by this sudden change in topic.

The hawk landed. “Hello my love,” she said. “Who will take Windsong back to the mews then?”

“We’ll find someone.” He was a bit wary of the hawk. The bird had a limited number of handlers, and Faramir was not one of them.

Ariel hooded Windsong, and they ran into one of her guard on the way back to the main palace, handing him off to the unfortunate soul. Faramir escorted her to her rooms where a bevy of capable handmaidens awaited to turn her out into a respectable princess. A green velvet dress, well-combed hair, a leafy elvish coronet resting amongst her curls. She felt less ridiculous than she had the first time she’d been presented to the court. That ease had come with time.

She joined Arwen’s procession of ladies on the way into the throne room. Arwen raised an eyebrow but smiled. “I hear you were on a roof.”

“Windsong needed to fly.”

“Of course.” She took her sister-in-law’s hand. “You have become quite restless this spring.”

Ariel shrugged. “I cannot help it.”

“Well, do try for the next couple days. We have the arrival and the wedding. I know there are things you would rather be doing.”

“There have been orcs sighted in the wilds,” Ariel replied. “Hunting would a far better use of my time.”

Arwen shook her head. “The rangers will handle the orcs. You must simply handle the now.”

Ariel sighed. Arwen was unflappable, and generally untemptable either. Eowyn though, would on occasion agree to join Ariel on a jaunt outside the city. If they happened to accidentally run into a bandit or brigand, they had their guard—and their own weapons.

Eowyn referred to it as good practice. Eowyn, who thankfully joined them once they reached the throne room. She smiled at Ariel. “You look lovely today. I see they managed to get all of the tangles out of your hair.” She tugged on a strand. “Climbing the tower?”

“Windsong needed to fly.”

“Of course.” Eowyn smiled. “You are lucky Faramir is such a patient soul.”

Arwen smiled. “Aragorn is patient.”

Ariel laughed. “Yes, he is.”

“I see all of my ladies are happy today,” Aragorn greeted them. “Ariel, climbing the tower? Really?”

“I took the stairs for most of it.”

He put a hand on her cheek. “Try not to give me any gray hairs for the next few days, eh?”

“Yes, my king.” She smiled, mischief in her eyes.

Aragorn sighed. “Come along then, let’s greet our guests.”

***

After the ceremonial duties required of her were over, Ariel was free to change out of her gown and bury herself in the library. She wasn’t about to go climbing things with so many guests about. Faramir would know she was there, one of her guard was expected to follow her about when there were so many strangers in the palace.

Though it was not Faramir who sought her out.

“Hello, my luck,” Glorfindel sat next to her. “I was told you often come here.”

“Glorfindel,” she smiled and embraced him. “I did not know you were coming.”

“Well, it would not have been a surprise if I had.” He smiled back. “I came to say goodbye. I sail soon.”

Ariel swallowed, blinking back tears. “Must you go?”

“I must. I hear the call and there are few ships left now. It’s time.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “This is a happy time.” He untied his sword from his belt and set it on the table. “For you, little one.”

“I will miss you.”

“I will miss you as well.” He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “You have a wonderful life ahead of you, do not spend it mourning for me.”

Ariel nodded.

“Now, perhaps you would indulge me with a bit of sparring? We can see how you fare with a new blade.”

That brought a smile to her face. “I must warn you, I’ve improved much since the last time we sparred.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

***

It was Faramir who first noticed the sudden reticence of Gondor’s princess. She was not usually one to brood for long periods of time. She’d told no one of Glorfindel’s goodbye, the pain was too fresh. Arwen and Eowyn noticed quickly after, the delay only because Ariel seemed to be avoiding everyone.

“There is something wrong with your sister,” Arwen said to her husband. “She has been very quiet these past few days. Far too quiet.”

“I’ll speak to her,” Aragorn replied.

“Gently.” Arwen kissed him. “And soon.”

Aragorn did not argue with his wife. He found Ariel in the library, staring out the small east window. “Araneth?”

She turned toward him. “Did I miss something?”

“No.” He shook his head, joining her on the bench. “I am concerned. You have not been yourself.”

“I’m fine, Ara. Really. It is always sad when friends go back home. That’s all.”

“Perhaps you would like to go to Dol Amroth? You could spend a few months there.”

Ariel shook her head.

“Or Edoras?” Aragorn tilted his head. “I know there aren’t many your age in the palace.”

“It’s all right, really. I’ll be fine.” She swallowed. “I think I’ll go for a ride. The exercise will cheer me.”

“All right.” He kissed her cheek. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

***

Ariel and six of her guard rode out from the city. Edraith was the leader of this particular group. She knew most of her guard by sight, though not always their names. She did try, but while all knew guarding any of the royal family was an honor, most would do nearly anything to avoid being assigned to her. Edraith, however, had been chosen particularly by Faramir.

“Where are we riding today?” Edraith asked.

Ariel had no specific destination in mind. She did however, have a feeling. She could sense a darkness nearby. Just the thing to let her temper out on. “West for the moment,” she said. “Don’t worry, Edraith, I’ve no intention to go exploring ruins or prodding at old battlefields today.”

“Oh good.” He didn’t look entirely as though he believed her, but then, he had been on her detail for a full year now. “I’m sure that’s why you are fully armed for this jaunt.”

She smiled. “I’m always armed when we ride out of the city.”

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the road.

Ariel let her sense of darkness guide her. Edraith found their path unusually meandering, but did not question it. Royals were odd, and Ariel was also a teenager, they were also odd. They were getting closer, Ariel could feel it. She felt a sharpness to the feeling come, and drew her sword.

Edraith followed her lead. “What is it?”

“I feel something.” 

While Edraith did not trust his princess not to wander he did trust her feelings. The guard quickly pulled weapons and drew closer, moving more cautiously now. A moment later, the familiar cry of goblins broke the quiet.

It was a full hunting party, far more than Ariel had expected to find. There were few such groups this size so close to Minas Tirith these days.

“We will break a path free for you,” Edraith turned to her. “Run as soon as you can. Ride hard.”

“I won’t leave you here to die!”

There was no further time to argue though, the goblins were upon them. Ariel wasn’t going to leave these men to die. She couldn’t. It was her fault they were here to begin with. One of the guard pulled his horn, blowing sharply. Ariel sent up a prayer that aid would come in time. They clashed with the first line of attackers. Ariel was not the fighter she had been at Helm’s Deep, nor the fighter she had been with Theoden’s riders. She cut down her opponents now with wicked efficiency born of lessons from elves and men.

The horn was blown again.

But this time, a horn blew in return. Ariel felt a rush of relief upon sighting the group riding toward them. _Dunedain_. She’d no idea what they were doing here, but in that moment, she did not care. Thirty Dunedain were more than a match for what remained of the goblins.

Edraith breathed a sigh of relief and immediately headed for his charge. “Are you injured, my lady?”

“I’m all right,” Ariel said, cleaning and sheathing her blade. “And you? The others?”

“Conor twisted his ankle,” Edraith smiled. “But we came out unscathed.” The relief on her face reminded him of the true reason he had remained the captain of her guard. There was a truly kind soul there and she cared deeply for the lives of those serving her. She was not spoiled or haughty—just a bit wild. A bit reckless.

“Good. I’m sorry. This was my fault.” She shook her head. “We should check the horses.”

A small group of Dunedain broke off from the main company, heading toward Ariel and her guard. When they drew closer, Ariel realized she had made a small mistake. Elladan and Elrohir were two of the three, and while they traveled with the Dunedain, were not. The twin brothers of Arwen. They had the same dark hair as their sister, but silver grey eyes like coins. Ariel met them at the wedding.

“Elladan, Elrohir,” she greeted. “What are you doing in Gondor?”

“Saving you, little sister,” Elladan said. “Or so it seems.”

“What, no greeting for me?” The third of their group gave her a look. He looked much like the twins, though older and not an elf.

“Halbarad,” Ariel smiled. “I was not ignoring you.”

“I should hope not.”

“My lords,” Edraith stepped forward. “I need to return Lady Ariel to the city and inform my king of this attack. Are you coming with us?”

“We are,” Halbarad agreed. “We’ve been tracking these goblins for days now, I suppose we may have driven them a bit too close to the city.”

“A bit,” Elohril agreed.

“Let’s get our little sister home then,” Elladan said. “Your brother is going to be delighted to hear you stumbled into a hunting party.”

Ariel sighed. Her brother was going to be something all right. She could lie about what really happened. Edraith certainly seemed to think it had all been a grand twist of fate, but she knew better. If the Dunedain had not arrived, her men would be dead. Her stomach twisted. He was going to be so disappointed in her.

She was disappointed in herself. Her grief over Glorfindel had not been eased by the battle, and now she felt guilt as well. It was a terrible tangle of emotions. The twins knew her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders as they rode back to Minas Tirith.

Word spread quickly enough of the new arrivals. Arwen and Aragorn were waiting. Arwen embraced her brothers. “You could not send word?”

“We were busy hunting,” Elladan replied. “I’m afraid we drove a goblin party into Ariel’s path.”

Aragorn immediately moved toward his sister, looking her over. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Ara. Conor twisted his ankle, but the others are fine.”

“Good.” He put a hand on her face. “You are certain you are all right?”

She glanced away from him, biting her lip. “We should talk somewhere private.”

“Of course.” He kissed her forehead. There was something wrong then. He turned to the twins and Halbarad. “It is very good to see you. You’ll join us for dinner?”

“Of course, my king,” Halbarad nodded.

“Arwen, my love,” Aragorn turned to her. “Could you see to our guests, I need to speak with my sister.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle these rogues.” She smiled.

Aragorn gave her a kiss and turned back to Ariel. He nodded toward the palace and she followed without a word.

“Now then,” Arwen turned to her brothers and the company of Dunedain. “Let’s find you all rooms.”

***

Once Aragorn had his sister safely ensconced in her room, he waited patiently as she stripped off her weapons, noting the splashes of goblin blood on her tunic.

“What happened, Ariel?”

“We found a goblin hunting party. We would have died if not for the twins and the Dunedain.” She frowned at her sword. Glorfindel’s sword. She traced a finger over the hilt. “I could have gotten them all killed.”

“How is that?” He watched, patient. If she was going to confess, it was always best to simply wait.

“I went looking for trouble.” She swallowed, concentrating on the hilt of the sword. “I was looking for a fight. I thought we might find a few goblins.  A stray orc. I did not…I did not know we’d run into a hunting party.”

“You went looking for a fight.” Aragorn stepped forward, pulling her chin up with a gentle touch. “You used your sense to find them?”

“Yes, sir.”

Aragorn sighed. “Why, _mellen_?”

“I wanted something I could fight.” She took a breath. “I thought it would help.”

“Help with what?”

“This feeling.” The first tear rolled down her cheek. “Glorfindel said goodbye at Eomer’s wedding. He goes to the Grey Havens.”

“Oh, Araneth,” he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“It was so foolish. They could have died and it would’ve been my fault. I’m so sorry.”

Aragorn held her, feeling conflicted. She could see so clearly what she had done wrong, but he knew he couldn’t let this go. “You know I have to discipline you.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to tell me what really happened. You could have stayed quiet, you could have gone along with Edraith, that it was an accident.”

“No, I could not have kept quiet. My conscience would not allow it.”

“I am very proud of you.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s take care of this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Aragorn pulled away, retrieving a chair and taking a seat. He held his hand out to her.

She paused a moment, unbuttoning her overtunic and setting it aside. It was likely unsalvageable. She faced her brother, striding forward and taking his hand. He had her over his lap in a moment. He carefully unknotted the drawstring holding up her trousers and tugged them down.

Ariel flushed, but was unsurprised.

“You should have come to me. Burying your feelings is never helpful and it is what led you to such foolhardy behavior.”

“Yes, sir.” She held onto the leg of the chair, ill-balanced.

“All right.” Aragorn nodded and set to work.

It rarely mattered how long or short a time there was between her brother needing to discipline her, Ariel always forgot how much this hurt. But losing those men would have hurt more. Dying would have hurt more. Being eaten by goblins would have hurt more. This pain though, this pain made her feel better. It was her opportunity to atone for something, to untangle the emotional mess in her stomach. There were other ways, but none quite so immediate.

She knew from experience that it was simply best to live in the moment, accept what was coming. Of course, knowing that and doing it were two separate ideas. In the midst of a spanking, she inevitably found herself struggling. Her trousers kept her from kicking as much as she would’ve liked and her instinctual responses to pain were to _avoid_ the pain. So she struggled.

“You aren’t going anywhere, little one,” Aragorn chided, adjusting his grip. “We’ve only just gotten started.”

Well, that was foreboding. She did settle a touch. She wanted Aragorn to be proud of her, to forgive her. Though in her heart, she wondered if he could. This could have turned out far worse than it had. It could have been so much worse. They’d been close enough to Minas Tirith that help _might_ have come in time, but luck had saved them.

Perhaps Glorfindel was right in the end, she had some kind of luck. That luck had kept her men alive today. Kept her alive.

She sobbed, body shaking sobs. But it wasn’t over yet, Aragorn went on, sensing in his little sister the same stubborn cling to guilt he felt himself. He knew it was unlikely she would forgive herself so quickly for what had happened, but he could forgive her and keep forgiving her, until she could forgive herself. He applied his final bit of attention to the top of her thighs and the sensitive skin just above her thighs.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, voice hoarse, not entirely aware that he’d finished.

“I know, _mellen_.” He gingerly pulled her trousers back up. “I know, and I’m proud of you for telling me the truth. I forgive you.”

“They could’ve died. I could’ve died. It was all my fault.” She shook her head. “It was so stupid. I—”

He cut her off with a hard swat. “I had a feeling you were about to continue by saying something terrible about yourself, and I will not stand for that, Araneth. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He stood her back up. “Now we must deal with one other issue.”

She raised her chin, eyes red and face wet.

“As far as your transgression goes with this family, we are done. However, what you did does not simply effect this family. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, my king.”

Aragorn closed his eyes a moment. “You could have led six knights to their death.”

“Yes, my king.”

He stood, placing a hand on her head, smoothing her hair back. “I see it in you, the potential to lead. You will attend to the Houses of Healing for the next six months aiding the healers with whatever they wish. You will not leave the palace grounds without my permission. You will not leave the city without my permission.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“All right,” he opened his arms, “let me comfort you, _mellen_.”

She rushed into his arms, clinging tight.

“Glorfindel loves you, he will always love you. No matter where he has gone.”

“I will never see him again.”

“I know.” He held her tight. “I know.” He could not fix this. He could only help her move a little further down the path to acceptance. And forgiveness. “Come along now, there’s a time for you sleep a while before dinner.”

She nodded and let him lead her to bed.

***

Ariel was quite sore when she got up from her nap. It had been a harsher punishment than she could recall in recent memory, but she could not fault it. She wanted to apologize to Edraith and the others as well. She’d have to find the time. Though at that moment, she needed to dress for dinner. With all of the Dunedain in attendance, it was a less formal affair. She was grateful for that, as she’d no desire to wear a formal gown. The ladies of Gondor tended toward more layers, though she preferred the style of dress she’d grown up with. A linen dress with over tunic of green embroidered to within an inch of its life.

Still, it was better than layers of velvet.

She entered the dining hall alone, spotting the twins with a smile. “You both clean up quite well, don’t you? How many weeks of mud did you have to wash off?”

“A few,” Elohril said, smiling. “It was worth it though, to kill those goblins.”

Elladan nodded. “Can we escort you to your seat, little sister?”

“If you insist.” Ariel took his elbow. “How long are you staying this time?”

“A few months,” Elohril replied. “You need the company.”

She flushed. “Did Ara say something to you?”

“He did,” Elladan said. “He worries, little sister. You are very precious to him. And to us.”

Warmth crept through her heart. “You are precious to me as well, my brothers.”

“We thought perhaps you’d like to visit Rivendell,” Elohril said. “Ada is still there, and he would like to spend some time with you.”

“Does he plan to go to the Grey Havens soon?” Ariel asked.

“It some ways off yet,” Elohril replied. “But you should come.”

“What does my king think of this?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“He may have suggested that as well.”

“Of course.” She shook her head. “I’ll think about it.”

Elladan smiled and kissed her cheek. “Good.”

Ariel took her seat, wincing only a touch and smiled back. Faramir was to her left. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“I hear you had an eventful day.”

“That is, I suppose, one way to put it.” She sighed. “Everyone came home whole.”

“I heard that as well. Edraith was impressed with your swordsmanship.” He smiled.

“Oh good. I was so worried about that.”

“Sarcasm is beneath a princess,” Faramir scolded gently.

“I really don’t believe _that_ is true.” Ariel grinned. “It’s certainly not beneath my brother.”

“He’s a king, much different.”

She laughed. “Oh yes.”

Eowyn slipped into the seat next to Faramir, looking a touch green. “Well, this is as full as I’ve seen this table in some time.”

“I think this group may eat us out of house and hearth,” Ariel remarked. “They look underfed.”

“Rangers,” Faramir said, “often have that look about them.”

Halbarad, the closest ranger, laughed. “Very true. We were chewing on roots just last night.”

“I believe many here have been in that position,” Faramir remarked. “Have you tried those little reddish roots that grown under white flowers? They have nice nutty quality.”

“Oh yes, those are rather good,” Ariel added.

Halbarad smiled. “I have, they make a good stew with fish if you have it.”

Dinner was precisely the distraction Ariel needed. Pleasant conversations with old friends, her relatively new family, it made her feel safer. After dinner there was the usual mingling and drinking as everyone unwound. Ariel had no interest in drinking herself in the normal course of things. She took a glass of wine, sipping at it and wandering about to meet the rest of the rangers. They were a mixed bunch, younger and older. She’d no real idea of anyone’s age. Her own brother was some seventy years her senior, though anyone looking at the two of them would guess they were perhaps a decade and a half apart, perhaps two decades.

She was wandered into an antechamber, leaning against the wall and sipping at her wine. One of the younger rangers followed her, smelling of ale with a cloud expression.

“You nobles are all the same,” he hissed. “You think you can just drag your guards about wherever you like? Riding wherever. They could have died and it would’ve been your fault you spoiled little princess.”

The color drained from her face. Ariel was all right with blaming herself. She was all right Aragorn taking her task. With her king taking her to task. But this—drunken ass, had no right to do so. She was _not_ an emptyheaded girl who’d taken them out there on a whim with no thought. She knew well what the typical sightings of orcs and goblins were on the hills and the fields. She’d no way of knowing there was a goblin hunting party out there.

She finished her wine, setting the cup aside on a table. “You have no idea who or what I am boy.”

He stumbled closer and uttered a curse at her. She recognized the meaning, though not the direct translation.

She didn’t hesitate. A lady might have slapped him across the face, but Ariel had only been a lady for a year. She balled up her fist and bunched him in the nose. The crack of bone was particularly satisfying.

“You want to say that again?”

He snarled and charged at her, nose dripping blood. Ariel stepped to the side and he crashed into the table, knocking a vase and her wine cup to the floor. The clatter and crash drew the attention of those in the dining hall. The ranger got up and came at her again, grabbing her hair.

Ariel didn’t hesitate, taking hold of her hair just over his grip and then punching him in stomach. His hand wrapped around her neck and he squeezed—which was the moment Faramir and Eowyn stepped into the fray, pulling the pair apart. Aragorn and Halbarad were there quickly after that, followed by Arwen and her brothers.

“Are you all right?” Eowyn asked, looking at Ariel’s neck. The pale length was reddened.

Ariel coughed. “I’m fine.”

Halbarad stalked toward the young ranger. “What did you do?’ he snarled.

“She punched me!” the youth shouted.

Aragorn raised his eyebrows, looking back at his sister. “Ariel?”

“He provoked me. He wanted a fight.” She rubbed her neck. “I will not repeat what he said.”

Aragorn looked into his sister’s eyes, noting an emotion he rarely saw in those eyes. She had looked haunted when she confessed what happened that afternoon, but what he saw now was a deep fear. He’d seen it before.

Her free hand was clenched tight, but the fingers on the hand clinging to her neck were trembling ever so slightly.

“What did you say to my sister?” Aragorn demanded, turning his attention to the ranger.

“The truth. She’s a spoiled noble who could have gotten those soldiers killed.” Even drunk, he seemed to realize that he needed to modulate his tone with the king.

“That is not all you said,” Ariel said softly.

“No, that would not be enough to provoke my sister,” Aragorn agreed. “What else did you say?” Aragorn’s tone was deadly.

The young ranger sobered a touch and quietly repeated the foul curse.

“Arwen, Eowyn, could you take Ariel to her room and ensure she is all right?” Aragorn said quietly.

“Of course.” Arwen took Ariel by the arm. “Come along little sister.”

When the ladies had left, Aragorn turned back to the ranger. “My sister is a capable warrior. She fought at Helm’s Deep. She fought at Pelennor. She was being kind only breaking your nose. Halbarad, he is your charge. Deal with it.”

“Yes my king,” Halbarad nodded, taking the ranger by the back of the neck and dragging him away.

“Is she going to be all right?” Elladan asked.

“The ladies know what to do,” Aragorn replied. “But tomorrow, you two should train with her. She enjoys training with you.”

“Of course, brother,” Elohril said.

“Faramir, come with me?” Aragorn looked to his steward.

Faramir nodded.

“Friends, I will leave you to finish the ale,” Aragorn addressed the other rangers. “And see you in the morning.”

***

Bruises were already forming on Ariel’s neck. But it was not the bruises that had Arwen and Eowyn worried. They knew what Ariel’s insecurities were, and they knew, after long nights of careful admissions from their dear little sister, what it was Fulgrim had wrought on her. He’d been a monster to her. It was a slow upward climb every time she was reminded of those days. Words had rained down her as often as blows, and the words that young man had used would dig deep as an arrow into Ariel’s chest.

Eowyn put a damp cloth on Ariel’s neck. “What are you thinking right now, dear one?”

“I’m thinking I wish I could have broken that man’s nose twice.”

“I see.” Eowyn smiled. “What he said was foul, but it was not true.”

“The second thing perhaps, but not the first. I did almost get those men killed. That was my fault.”

“Yes,” Arwen said. “But your brother and your king have already dealt with that mistake, little sister.”

“Yes.” Ariel nodded.

“Is your head here, or in the past?” Arwen asked.

“Here, it is here. I do not know where it will be when I sleep.”

“We will worry about that when you sleep.” Arwen brushed a strand of hair from Ariel’s face.

Aragorn and Faramir entered the room.

“Are you all right?” Aragorn asked.

“Bruised, but I’ll live.”

He took a closer look at her neck. “I did not expect you to encounter danger within these walls, _mellen._ ”

“He was drunk,” she replied. “I know I am not in danger within these walls.”

“Halbarad will handle him. As for you—you showed admirable restraint.”

“Drawing a weapon would have only escalated things.” And she was armed, she kept a knife in her boot at all times.

“Yes.” Aragorn kissed the top of her head. “You handled that well, Araneth.”

“Faramir,” Ariel said. “You should take Eowyn to bed, she’s not feeling well.”

Faramir frowned and looked at his wife. “Eowyn?”

She took his hand. “I’m fine, let’s go to bed. Good night.” She nodded to everyone and pulled Faramir from the room.

“What was that about?” Aragorn asked.

“She’s pregnant,” Arwen replied. “And she’ll be fine.”

Aragorn blinked. “Oh.”

“I should go to bed myself,” Ariel said.

“Are you all right to be alone tonight?” Arwen asked.

Ariel wanted to nod. She wanted to be stronger than the little girl who had been stuck in a little shack with a man who truly hadn’t wanted her. A man who saw her dead mother every time he looked at her and couldn’t forgive her for it. But when she was reminded of those days, as she had been tonight, it was like she was back in that little hut.

Her hands shook and she closed them tight. “No.”

Arwen pulled her into her arms. “That’s all right, Araneth.” She stroked Ariel’s hair. “You don’t have to be alone dear one. Let’s get your things and you can stay with me and your brother tonight.”

“Thank you, Arwen.”

Arwen helped the girl to her feet. “Estel, you can go ahead, we’ll follow.”

“As you wish.” He nodded and headed out.

Arwen was always gentle with Ariel. There were few who were anything else after a single evening broken by one of Ariel’s nightmares. They were rarer now, but she fully expected one tonight. Ariel stripped out of her clothes. She bore scars from her battles. The arrow wound in her shoulder had healed well, but there was still a scar. The slim line on her thigh from Helm’s Deep. The other scars were from far different battles, and she did not care to think of them.

She slipped on a nightgown and grabbed a heavy robe and a bit of ribbon, sitting down to braid her hair. With that done, she put on her slippers and looked to Arwen.

“All right, I’m ready.”

Arwen took Ariel’s hand, and they headed to the royal suite and to bed.

***

Ariel did wake in the middle of the night, sweating and screaming.

“It’s all right,” Aragorn quickly pulled his shaking sister into his arms. “It’s all right, _mellen_. You’re here with me. With Arwen.”

She clung tight to him. Arwen moved close, sandwiching the girl between her and her husband. Arwen spoke softly in Elvish, murmuring comfort. Elvish was always calming for Ariel. Aragorn hummed an old lullaby.

Ariel’s shaking stopped, and her eyes began to close again. “ _Ada_ ,” she whispered, dropping every closer to sleep. “Don’t leave me.”

Aragorn stilled and then kissed her forehead. “No one is leaving you, Araneth.” He shared a look with Arwen, who smiled, and the three fell back into a more peaceful slumber.

Though Aragorn did think on Ariel’s soft admission. There was a great gap between them. He was well old enough to _be_ her father. He felt often enough _like_ her father. She’d never really had one. Her mother had died when she was ten. Was it enough to be her brother?

Could he be more than that? Did she want him to be?

He fell asleep in his mulling. _Ada_ she’d said, in her most vulnerable moment. Not Ara. Not brother. _Ada_.

And damn him, if it didn’t feel right.


	3. The Princess and the Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel celebrates her eighteenth birthday and heads to Rivendell. 
> 
> *Ware, spanking

Ariel trained with the twins that morning before breakfast.

“You have improved,” Elladan said as they walked back to the palace to wash before their meal.

“Yes,” Elohir agreed. “You nearly had Elladan.”

Elladan gave his twin a look.

Ariel smiled. “Well, I’m not three millennia old, so I’ll take nearly.”

Elohir smiled.

She spotted Edraith as they walked back into the palace and peeled away from the twins with a quick promise to see them again at breakfast.

“Edraith,” she called.

“My lady.” He nodded. “You trained hard today.”

She shrugged. “I had some aggression to work out.”

“I heard you were assaulted by one the rangers.”

“It was nothing.”

“The bruise on your neck is not nothing.”

“And _not_ your fault, Edraith.” She looked him in the eyes. “Just as the goblins were not your fault. They were mine. I should not—” she took a deep breath. “You and your men could have died and it would have been my fault. I’m sorry.”

“At first I thought it was an accident. But then I remembered how you’d been. You were itching for a fight and I should’ve seen it. Someone should have stepped in before it went that far.” Edraith eyed the bruise again. “No one died. You’ve no doubt paid this for this mistake.”

Ariel flushed.

Edraith smiled. “I know my king. And I know my princess. And I also know that this mistake will never be repeated. Will it?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Then I forgive you, the men forgive you.” He nodded deeply. “You fought well against those goblins. You stayed and defended my men. Your men. One day, I think more of them will look forward to your command.” He smiled again and headed off down the hall.

Ariel stood there a long moment, letting Edraith’s forgiveness sink in. It would get better.

***

Ariel spent all of her free time in the Houses of Healing. Beyond even what her king had ordered, but she found a peace there she couldn’t explain. It was quiet. She wasn’t the only one who spent time there. Her brother did, and Faramir. Eowyn had a disdain for the place unless she was absolutely ill enough to require it. Faramir could get that way as well, prompting at least one conversation with his king about resting when he was supposed to rest.

Ariel stocked bandages and helped mix poultices, washed linens and made herself as useful as possible while learning bits of healing knowledge herself. Her eighteenth birthday was coming soon, though she’d no real care for the event. It wasn’t her twentieth, that was by far a more important event. Still, it was her birthday and Aragorn had been determined to celebrate every facet of his sister’s life.

Out of the more dangerous time in her pregnancy, Eowyn finally made it public. Which of course meant there was another celebration. Celebration was far better than the alternative, Ariel knew, but it seemed to her that she was always moving from one to the next without fully understanding what they were celebrating.

She couldn’t tell her brother not to celebrate her birthday though. He’d never agree for one. Her dress for the occasion was a more traditional Gondorian one, heavily embroidered, hot, and demure. Her usual silver coronet rested at her brow. She’d managed boots over slippers though, against the protests of her lady’s maid. She was also armed, but that was normal enough. She pasted a smile on her face and led the column of court ladies of her age bracket into the main hall.

The black and white marble was softened by flowers and drapes. There was even music. The guests were numerous and the ale flowed freely. Which made a pair of hobbits rather happy.

“Merry, Pippin?” Ariel spotted the pair, a genuine smile stretching across her face. “I did not know you would be here.” She’d gotten to know them during their stay in the Houses of Healing.

“Well, we heard it was your birthday,” Pippin said. “And Merry’s off to Edoras for a to do as well, so of course I wanted to be here.”

“Oh? What’s going on in Edoras, Merry?” She turned to the slightly taller hobbit.

“Lady Eowyn convinced her brother I ought to be a full knight of Rohan.” Merry grinned.

“Well, that’s quite an accomplishment, Master Merry.” She picked up a glass of wine. “To Merry.”

Both hobbits clinked their ale mugs to her glass.

She took a drink and smiled. “I did see Eomer here, though not his wife.”

Pippin shrugged. “I thought I saw her earlier.”

“I was hoping Legolas and Gimli would make it,” Ariel added after a moment. “But Arwen’s brothers are here.”

“The twins?” Merry raised his eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“I think we’ll have to go say hello,” Pippin said.

“I think you’re right Pip.” Merry nodded. “By your leave?”

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Ariel sipped her wine. “I’ll find someone to entertain me.” She watched them leave and sighed.

“Such a great sigh for one so young.”

Ariel spun around. “Legolas!” She smiled. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

He smiled back. “It was a near thing, but I managed to intercept my invitation while stopping in Rivendell.”

“And where’s Gimli?”

“Just there,” Legolas nodded toward the buffet table. “He was hungry.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“Give me another glass of wine and I will,” she replied.

Legolas shook his head. “I heard there was a bit of a skirmish.”

“Early in spring, yes.” Ariel nodded. “Goblins. The Dunedain arrived with the twins just in time. They’ve gone on, but the twins remained. I suspect to escort me to Rivendell in a few months.”

“You’re going to Rivendell?”

Ariel sighed. “I haven’t made my decision yet. Everyone thinks it would be a needed change of pace.”

“It would be that,” he agreed. “It could be a good thing. He raised your brother, Eldrond did. I think he would like to spend time with you as well.”

“The twins said much the same.” She paused. “Glorfindel left for the Grey Havens.”

“I heard.” His head tilted. “Many will leave now, many have left. Some will wait. Some will stay.”

“And you?”

“I—there is more I wish to see.” He smiled. “You will not be rid of me so easily.”

“Good, I’m starting to like you, it would be sad to see you go so soon.”

He laughed softly. “I’m gladdened to hear that.”

“You know, there is more I wish to see too.” Ariel sipped at her wine. “Rivendell, the Shire…I went from Edoras to Helm’s Deep and then here. I’ve never even been to Osgiliath or Dol Amroth. I want to see it, Legolas. All of it.”

“You have a wanderer’s heart. Traditionally, your family does wander a time after they reach adulthood. You may convince your brother to allow you the same.”

“Doubtful. Ara is most protective of me.” But that did sound like a grand idea.

“Ara?” Legolas smiled. “I don’t know that I’d dare call him that.”

“No, but you call him Estel.” She took a deep breath and finished her glass. “I—I may have called him…” Ariel shook her head. “Never mind.”

Legolas pulled her a bit further from the crowd. “What is it?”

“I think, I may have called him _Ada._ ”

“And this concerns you?”

“It was weeks ago but…” She looked up at Legolas. “He’s just so much older than I am. Old enough to be my father. I find myself thinking of him more as…I don’t really understand it myself.”

“You should speak with Aragorn about this.”

“Perhaps.” She sighed. “I’m going to get another glass of wine.”

Legolas watched her walk away, contemplative. He didn’t know how this would play out. Only time would tell.

***

Fall arrived and with it, Ariel’s trip to Rivendell. She felt a bit peculiar, fixing the last of the saddle bags to the saddle.

“You’ll return in the spring,” Aragorn said. “But I will come see you in the winter.”

Ariel nodded. “Who will watch over Gondor?”

“Faramir, of course.” Aragorn kissed her cheek. “Safe travels _mellen_.”

She had the twins, Legolas, Gimli, Edraith and a half-dozen other knights to escort her there. The knights planned to return to Gondor, though Edraith was going to stay.

“Winter then.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I don’t like missing Eowyn’s first born.”

“I know.” He smiled. “But you need to see some of the world. And you need this time with Elrond. Eowyn understands.”

Eowyn who wasn’t seeing her off because she was under enforced bedrest at the Houses of Healing.

Ariel nodded.

“You’ll see, Araneth, this is the best thing for you.”

“Yes, Ara.”

He smoothed her hair. “Edraith is ready to leave I think.”

Ariel nodded quickly, mounting her horse. She’d already said her goodbyes to everyone else. “I will see you come winter.”

Aragorn nodded. “Be good, little sister.”

“I’ll try.”

Edraith clicked his tongue and his horse headed forward, leading the group off down into the city. They were off.

Aragorn couldn’t help the pang he felt. He hadn’t been parted from her for more than day at a time this past year. But he couldn’t be with her all the time. She needed this time. She needed to learn what it meant to be a part of this family. To be one of Isildur’s heirs. There was no one better to teach her that than Elrond.

Arwen joined him a moment later, watching the procession head down to the city. “She’s going to be all right.” She put an arm around his. “She’s come quite a ways from the uncertain girl you found in Edoras. No one will doubt her ability to lead once _Ada_ has had this time with her.”

“I agree. Half a year may not be enough time, but I don’t want to be parted from her for longer.”

“I know. But she is growing up. She’ll be twenty soon. Of marriageable age. You cannot tell me that you haven’t seen the looks she gets.”

“I’ve been trying to ignore them.” He grimaced. “Rivendell will be a blessedly free of too many young lads.”

“I had wondered if that didn’t play into your decision, my love.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry so much, Aragorn.”

“I cannot help my worry. She reminds me too much of myself. I fell in love with you when I was young, though, older than Ariel is now. What if her heart falls for one who leaves for the Grey Havens? Glorfindel’s departure hurt her deeply.”

“I know you disdain cryptic answers, but there is no answer to this question. You must simply wait.”

“If I must.”

***

Ariel’s first sight of Rivendell set her heart thrumming. The flying white arches, the trees and flowers. It was nothing like Minas Tirith, but she was reminded none the less. Elrond waited for them at the gate.

“Welcome,” he said. “To Rivendell.”

They were quickly brought inside and their horses tended to. The business of washing off the dust of the long ride was taken care of, though Ariel wasn’t quite certain she appreciated the Elven gown she was given. It was a bit pinkish for her taste.

“You look rather lovely this evening,” Edraith remarked. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in such a color.”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

He smiled.

“Lady Ariel,” one of the elven stewards bowed. “It’s time for the evening meal.”

“Thank you.” Ariel nodded back. “Edraith, are you planning to be at my side continuously?”

“Your brother was most insistent.”

“Well, I prefer a little space.”

“And I prefer my head attached to my shoulders.”

She sighed. “This is going to become a _thing_ , isn’t it?”

“Perhaps, my lady.”

She was almost positive she hated him. Ariel followed the steward, joining the rest of their party at Elrond’s table. Elrond pointed out a seat to Ariel.

“How was your journey?” Elrond asked.

“Easy enough,” Ariel replied. “No skirmishes. There was a bear on the third day.”

Elrond smiled. “That is good news. Tomorrow I will show you the rest of Rivendell.”

“I appreciate that, my lord.”

“We could show her around, Ada,” Elladan said, gesturing toward his brother.

“If I wanted her to know every hiding place in Rivendell, that would be a grand idea.” He eyed his sons. “But I’d prefer she found them on her own.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, my lord.” Ariel smiled.

“I know that smile,” Edraith remarked. “If you’ll forgive me, my lord, I would take care. When my princess smiles that way, I know trouble is afoot.”

“Thank you, Edraith, I will keep that in mind.” Elrond raised an eyebrow at the girl. “I am experienced with troublesome children on her line.”

“The tales we could tell you,” Elohril said.

Legolas smiled. Aragorn’s childhood had been full of particularly impressive feats, troublesome in nature. He saw Aragorn frequently in Ariel. He saw Arathorn as well, but there were days when he saw Mithien. The Dunedain woman had been a force of nature. A dangerous and skilled warrior. There was little chance Ariel would not follow in her mother’s footsteps.

“I would prefer you aided in instructing your sister in more historical matters.” Elrond eyed his sons.

“Tales of her brother are history, _Ada._ ”

Elrond sighed. This was going to be a long six months.

***

Ariel fell into an easy rhythm in Rivendell. Elrond’s library was as welcoming as the one in Minas Tirith. She could spend hours there quite comfortably. Late hours. Early hours. She fell asleep frequently in the window seat, a book in her lap. Which was, in Elrond’s opinion, a safer place for her to be than climbing the towers of Minas Tirith.

But she did need to sleep in her own bed. He woke her one evening, lifting the book from her lap. “Ariel, to bed with you little one.” He helped her to her feet.

“The window is comfortable enough,” she protested sleepily.

Elrond shook his head, stroking her hair fondly. “Beds are for sleeping in. Windows are not.”

She huffed, but let him lead her back to her room. “Good night, Uncle.”

“Good night.” He kissed her cheek. “Sleep well.”

Ariel may have spent her evenings and early mornings in the library, and some afternoons, but the twins were there to provide tutelage in other subjects. From old Elvish to the finer points of archery, swordplay and knife work. They were determined to ensure their little sister was as dangerous a creature to encounter as any other child of Numenor.

The next morning, after breakfast, it was riding lessons. Her own horse, Bain, had been a gift from Eomer. The horse was of an Elven bloodline, and had an even temperament—whenever Ariel rode him, at least. The grey dapple was quick and took to the exercises with enthusiasm, just like his rider.

“I’d think you part horse,” Elohril remarked as horse and rider came to a stop in front of him. “I suppose your time in Rohan was well spent?”

She smiled. “I have a knack with horses.” She patted Bain’s neck. “I think Bain is ready for a rub-down and mash.”

Elohril nodded. “You’ve done well today. Go ahead and take Bain to the stables. You’ll want to wash before your next lesson.”

“Havens forbid I smell of horse.” She slipped off Bain’s back, taking the reins. “As you say, Elohril.” She waved jauntily at him and led Bain off to the stable. She enjoyed taking care of him herself. It was calming. Her own way of cooling down after their exercise. She left him with fresh water and a bucket of mash, heading to the baths for her own ablutions. Ariel almost preferred the smell of horse to soap, but she had comfortable memories of the stables. It had been a safe place for her when nowhere else was. As a child in Rohan, horses had been her friends.

But she washed regardless, changing her riding attire for a light linen dress and over kirtle in green velvet. It was warm enough for the current weather. She walked back toward the library for her lessons, passing the altar that had once held the shards of Narsil. She’d no real thought in her mind when she paused, eyeing the fabric there. She felt peculiarly drawn, placing her hand on the altar.

The vision came immediately. Something in the dark. Some presence. It lurked in a broken tower. A remnant of something. The darkness reached for her. Ariel screamed. She found herself on the floor in front of the altar, head pounding and tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Ariel?” Elrond swept toward her, kneeling at her side. “ _Mellen_ , what is wrong?”

“I saw something. Something dark.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what it was.”

She was shaking. Elrond pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right, Elenien,” he whispered. Elrond carefully lifted her to her feet. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“I can feel it in my bones.” She clung tightly to his arms. “It’s out there, Uncle. A darkness. A shard of something.”

“We’ll discuss this when you are feeling better.” Elrond led her back to her room. “You need to rest now.”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“I will not leave you,” he promised. He put her to bed. “Rest and I will be here.” He sent for a servant with a tug of the cord near her bed.

“My lord?” The elf appeared a few minutes later.

“Fetch one of my sons. And bring a strong cup of tea for Lady Ariel, she’s not feeling well.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Elrond wrapped a blanket about Ariel’s shoulders. “It’s all right now.”

“Darkness,” she whispered.

Elladan and Elhoril appeared together before the servant returned. “What’s happened?” Elladan asked.

“Ariel had a vision. It had left her shaken.” Elrond took a breath. “I need you to take word to Minas Tirith. Aragorn will worry, but this is the safest place for her. And the best place for her to learn to use this gift.”

The tea arrived, and Elrond assured Ariel drank it all down before trying to speak again.

“Tell me what you saw.”

“There was a broken tower. A darkness. It’s a piece of something else. Something long dead that should not be. I saw it when I touched the altar where Narsil’s shards were kept. I felt drawn.” Her hands had stopped shaking. “The darkness reached out for me. The vision ended.”

Elladan fetched paper and a charcoal stick from Ariel’s desk. “Here, little sister, perhaps you can draw this tower.”

“I can try.”

She took the paper and the charcoal, carefully putting lines on the page until she achieved something of an approximation of the tower she had seen. “Here.”

“I’m not sure,” Elladan shook his head. “Ada?”

“It could be one of the ruined watch towers in the mountains.” Elrond frowned. “I’ll look into it.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Elohir asked.

Ariel nodded. “I am.” She took a deep breath. “Uncle, you called me Elenien before.”

Elrond smiled. “Your brother was Estel when I fostered him. I thought you deserved a name as well.”

Ariel smiled back. “Thank you, Uncle.”

He brushed the hair from her face and kissed the top of her head. “Do you think you’re up for a meal?”

“Yes, Uncle. The shaking has stopped.” She held out her hands. “I do not wish worry to spread.”

Edraith arrived a moment later, putting an end to that wish. “Princess, I heard you collapsed.” By the state of him, she assumed he’d been out in the woods. “Are you all right?”

“I am, thank you Edraith.” She smiled. “Your concern is appreciated.” She slipped free of the blankets and stood. “See?” Ariel walked across the room.

“I did make your brother a promise, my lady.”

“I’m certain he will not hold you responsible for an illness, Edraith.”

“Perhaps you could escort Ariel to luncheon,” Elrond suggested.

“Of course, my lord.” Edraith nodded. “My lady?” He offered her his arm.

Ariel sighed. “Thank you, Edraith.”

Elrond watched her leave and turned to his sons. “Her vision was strong. We must take care. Send word to your grandmother. Send word to Minas Tirith. I do not wish your brother to worry.”

“Aragorn will worry, Ada. It’s in his blood.” Elladan sighed.

“We do not know what will come of this vision. We take care. I will send word to Gandalf. We will discover the truth of this vision.” Elrond took a breath. “We will protect Ariel.”

“Yes, Ada.”

***

Ariel was haunted by the vision in her dreams, but she kept that to herself. Strong tea was enough to erase the trembling of her limbs, and a bath took care of the fear sweat. The dreams left her feeling agitated, however, and that was not so easily erased. Elladan and Elohir had left to send word to Lorien and Minas Tirith, leaving Ariel with Elrond as a sparring partner.

“You are unfocused of late,” Elrond remarked, stepping aside as she swung wildly. “Are you sleeping enough?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’ve been sleeping.” It wasn’t the sleeping that was the problem, it was what happened while she slept that caused this.

“Your hand is shaking, Elenien.”

Ariel adjusted her grip on the blade. “It is nothing.”

Elrond shook his head. “I doubt that very much. The vision plagues your sleep, doesn’t it?”

“That’s ridiculous.” She turned back to him. “We’ve still time to spar.”

“Your head is not in this. That is a good way to get hurt.” He shook his head and sheathed his blade. “Perhaps a run would do you more good.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped. “If you won’t spar with me, I’ll find someone else who will.”

“No.” Elrond stood firmly in front of her. “Run, or go back to your room. I will not risk you training in this mood.”

“Mood? I’m not in a mood!”

“Really?” He considered the girl in front of him. Agitated, growly steadily more agitated, and armed. “Sheathe your sword.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked you to.” He raised an eyebrow. “ _Ariel_.”

She flinched at the tone. “You are not my father.” Ariel turned, stalking away from him.

Elrond sighed. “For the moment, my dear Elenien, I very much am.” He strode forward, taking the sword from her with little effort. She was too surprised to react quickly.

“Give that back!”

“I think it’s time you went to your room and washed up. I’ll see you there.”

Ariel raised her chin, eyes flashing. Elrond met that green fire with his own stare. Finally, she blinked, turned and ran back into the palace.

Elrond watched her, shaking his head. Raising the children of Isildur always proved to be interesting, at least. He put her sword and his own away in the armory before heading to her room. He was somewhat surprised to find her there, he’d feared she would run off to one of the numerous hiding places his sons had already shown her.

She sat on her bed, staring down at her hands.

“Ariel?”

She looked up. There was still anger there. “I want my sword back.”

“You will have it, when I can trust you not to allow your emotions to cloud your responses in training.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You are haunted still, aren’t you?”

“I can handle dreams.”

“If you could, then you would not be behaving this way. I know you. The kindness in you. This anger comes from the darkness that visits your thoughts when you dream. You had only to tell me of this, and I could have helped you sooner.”

She flushed. “I—I do not need to be coddled.”

“No, but perhaps you do need a reminder that obedience is expected in the training yards.” Elrond stepped closer.

“I do not.” She stood, staring him down.

“Oh, but I think you do.” He took her by the arm. “It’s not been so long since I had to raise a child, Elenien. I recall well what to do.” He sat on the edge of the bed and tugged her over his lap.

“You can’t!”

“If you recall, dear one, your brother left your charge to me.” He got a firm grip around her middle and swatted the precise center of her rear. “Now, we’ll take care of this, and you will return to being the kindhearted girl I know you are.” He took up a brisk pace, his strikes weren’t hard, but he had a certain flick of the wrist that added a sharper sting.

“No,” Ariel cried. “Uncle, please!”

Elrond continued, watching for those telltale signs that his Elenien was coming out of the anger. Each of the precious lives he’d cared for had left a mark on his heart. She had made her mark. Her fearlessness. Her determination. But more, he cared that the kindness in her was preserved. He would not allow any darkness to enter her soul.

Ariel could feel the small pieces of darkness within her, leftovers from the vision, from the dreams. Building and building, they were insidious, drawing on the anger buried inside her. Anger at Fulgrim for his abuse. Anger at her own mother for leaving her. For dying. Anger at her father for never being there. Anger at her brother, for not finding her sooner. Darkness crept into those small pieces of anger and made them bloom larger.

And she didn’t want that anger to grow. She didn’t want to feel this way. It wasn’t _her._ Ariel hated that this had driven her. She hated feeling used. She hated having her emotions twisted. But pain brought clarity, and in the face of Elrond’s clearly demonstrated devotion, care…love, darkness could not stand in the face of that.

She sobbed, relaxing into Elrond’s discipline. “I couldn’t stop,” she cried. “The anger wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t make it stop.”

“I know, Elenien,” he could see her now, “let it go now.”

He hated causing those tears, but he could see the anger leaving her. He could see the darkness leaving her. He gently rubbed some of the heat he’d applied so vigorously, soothing her. “That’s it, my dear. You’re all right now.” He carefully pulled her up and upright into his arms. “We will not let this darkness consume you.”

“I’m sorry, for before. I couldn’t stop.”

“I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I know.” He prayed they heard back from his mother in law soon. There was no one more skilled with the magic of visions. They had to solve this. Soon. He would not see Ariel’s light snuffed out.

He would not see any more young lights snuffed out.

 


	4. The Growing Dark

A procession arrived with fanfare the next week, much to Elrond’s relief. Galadriel smiled at her son in law.

“Your sons headed on to Minas Tirith,” she said. “It seems they still disdain being parted. It has been too long since I was in Rivendell.”

“It has,” Elrond agreed. “I would like to introduce you to Ariel, princess of Gondor.”

Ariel felt suddenly shy in the face of Galadriel. She could feel the elf’s light in her very bones. “My lady,” Ariel curtseyed.

“Well met, princess of Gondor. I see your family in you. And this gift that haunts you now.” She put a hand on Ariel’s cheek. “Do not worry, I can help you.”

The relief on Ariel’s face was clear as a bell. Her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

Galadriel smiled. “This darkness will pass. I have faith.”

Ariel could only hope she was right.

***

“Breathe deeply, Ariel.”

It was the dozenth time Ariel had been reminded, and it was fraying at her nerves. “If I breathe any deeper, I may drown in pollen.” Ariel sneezed. “And I believe these trees are trying to kill me.”

“I have something to help with that,” Elrond approached and pressed a small honey drop in her hand.

“Sweets?” Ariel raised her eyebrows at him.

“It will help.”

She shrugged, popping the candy into her mouth. The sweet had a slightly herbal taste, but it was not unpleasant. Near immediately though, her eyes and nose stopped itching. “That’s amazing. Thank you, Uncle.” She smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

One less distraction did help a bit. Ariel breathed deeply and tried to concentrate. Blocking out the darkness was harder than she thought it would be. It made a part of her ache. Part of her spirit. A necessary thing if she was to block out that darkness.

It was growing. She could feel it growing. But there was something else. There was also light. The light was growing too. The light though, she couldn’t tell what it was, where it was. It was a mystery she couldn’t pin down.

That light though, she had this feeling that this light, it was born to face the growing dark. She didn’t speak of that though. She didn’t speak of what she didn’t know for certain. She wanted certainty.

But that was by far, the rarest thing in life.

***

The tome filled most of Ariel’s lap. She’d found it buried under scrolls in a trunk at the back of the library. Hidden things were usually the most interesting. She flipped through the book, delighting in the thick sound the pages made when she did.

She wasn’t entirely sure what the book was about, she couldn’t read the text, but it didn’t feel dark. It was…neutral. Some of the books in Elrond’s library were dark. Some were light. This was just knowledge. Knowledge could be used for light or dark. She paused though, when an all too familiar sight greeted her on the next page.

_The tower._

It was the tower from her vision, though whole in this image. It was far to the north of here, in the icy mountains. She touched the image and it thrummed through her fingertips. _Ariel._

She flinched, pulling her hand away.

_Ariel._

_You were not meant to be._

She fell into the vision, helpless to stop it. Again, the broken tower, but she stood on the mountain path leading toward it. She could feel the icy wind against her cheek. The stone beneath her feet. It was too cold. Ariel shook with the cold, wrapping her arms around herself.

_Your birth heralded a light._

A whisper drew across the wind.

_A new light._

“What are you?” Ariel demanded.

_With every light, there is a dark. I am yours._

“I don’t understand.”

_A child of your blood could never be nothing. Normal. Ordinary. A child of your blood is born to prophecy._

_And your time comes._

_One of us will not survive this._

_But I do not think it will be me._

There was a terrible cruel laugh. The darkness was growing.

“Elenien?”

A touch on her shoulder pulled her back. But her lips were tinged with frost, and her fingers were ice cold.

“You’re freezing.” Elrond pulled the book from her lap and into his arms. “Come, we’ll get you to a fire.”

Her voice felt frozen behind her lips. The growing light…was herself.

***

Elrond grew more worried, but the visions of the tower had ceased. Winter was well on its way, and with it, Aragorn’s arrival, the twins in tow.

“Are you all right?” were near the first words out of his mouth when he laid eyes on his sister.

“I am fine. Lady Galadriel has been of great help.” Ariel took his hand. “Truly. The vision no longer plagues me.”

He sighed, brow smoothing. “That is good to hear.”

“Where is Arwen?” Ariel looked about. “I thought she was coming?”

“Arwen was not fit to travel.” He smiled. “You are to be an aunt.”

Ariel smiled. “Truly?”

“Yes.”

She smiled ever wider, throwing her arms around him. “That is wonderful news, Ara.”

 “You’ll also be happy to know that Eowyn gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Elboron.” He hugged her back. “She’s looking forward to your return.”

“As am I, though…I must admit that this trip has been what I needed.”

“Good.” He took a step back, looping an arm around her shoulders. “You can tell me all that you’ve learned.”

“Well, to start, I now know the best path to sneak into the kitchens.”

Aragorn smiled. “Sometimes, _mellen_ , I think you may be part Hobbit.”

Ariel rolled her eyes. “I’m a growing girl you know.”

“Oh, I know. I think you’ve gotten another inch taller since I saw you last.” He ruffled her hair.

Ariel smacked his hand away. “Brute.”

“Ah, I have missed you.”

***

Ariel had missed her brother. She’d missed knowing he was near. She felt safer with him near. Not that she didn’t feel safe with Elrond, there was little place safer than Rivendell. She was, after all, one of the most well protected tweens in the realms. It didn’t matter what city she was in.

“You seem pensive, my princess.” Edraith leaned in the library doorway. “Weren’t you going for a ride?”

“I changed my mind.” Ariel glanced at him. “I thought you were training with the twins.”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “They fight dirty.” He strode into the library. “You have been unusually quiet.”

“I’ve been thinking.” She shrugged. Thinking. Dreaming. The darkness was still. But she knew it was out there, waiting. She knew without a doubt, that it was the battle she would have to fight. She did not know when, but her feeling was…soon. Nor did she know if anyone would be there with her. Would she face that darkness alone?

“I know…I know you have visions. What about them is so troubling?”

“I’ve had sensings and visions my whole life. The darkness is always there if you look for it, though in this case, it seems to be reaching out to me. That is troubling.” Ariel frowned.

“Troubling indeed.”

“That is so helpful, Edraith.” She shook her head. “Truly.”

He shrugged. “I am no royal to wonder at prophecy.”

“I am barely a princess, Edraith.” She sighed. “I see my future in these visions. Not the outcome.”

“A battle?”

“Perhaps.”

Edraith stepped closer. “I think you’ve always been looking for a battle.”

“Perhaps it’s in my blood.”

“I do not think our king wishes battles for you. A quiet, peaceful life.” Edraith leaned against the table. “Perhaps you could find a vision of peace for yourself?”

“That’s not how this works.” Ariel stood. “I don’t really even know how this works.” She gave Edraith a sharp look. “If you aren’t going to be helpful, you can go away.” She stormed past him.

Edraith reached out and put a hand on her arm. “I do not mean to be unhelpful.”

Ariel looked back at him. She rarely looked him in the eyes. There was something about Edraith she’d always found somewhat unnerving. She did now though. She looked into his eyes, uncertain still what made her uneasy about those hazel eyes. “Then _help_.”

“What do you want me to do?” He raised an eyebrow.

“One day, I will fight this darkness. I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Wherever you go, I will follow.” He smiled. “ _Always_.”

It wasn’t unease, Ariel realized. It was something else. Her skin tingled under his hand. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my princess.” His expression changed, drawing more serious than she’d seen it, but softer too. He looked like he was searching for something in her eyes. A little smile tugged at his lips when he found it. He let go of her arm and took her hand, kissing it gently. “Just give me the word.”

“Thank you, Edraith.”

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Ariel startled, pulling her hand free just as her brother peered into the library.

“Ah, there you are.” He smiled. “Edraith.”

“My king.” Edraith nodded. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Aragorn watched the man leave before turning his attention back to his sister. “That was odd.”

“Edraith is generally odd.”

“I suppose. It’s time for lunch.”

“Oh,” Ariel smiled. “I am a bit hungry.”

“I expect you aren’t going to tell me what it was you and Edraith were discussing then?”

“No.” Ariel shook her head.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” Aragorn smiled and took her arm. “Let’s eat.”

Ariel was beginning to acquire quite the bevy of secrets as it was. She wasn’t sure she needed Edraith to be one of them. But her heart thudded in her chest and her mouth went dry. Whatever this was between the two of them—she needed to keep it to herself for the moment.

***

Ariel wasn’t sure how she’d come to be in front of the place Narsil used to lay. She last remembered going to bed. Something glittered in the stone hand of the statue. Something near as small as a grain of sand. _It can’t be._ She reached out, the little piece of metal stuck to her finger and she brought it closer to her face.

It couldn’t be, but it was. A tiny shard of Narsil. She couldn’t imagine what to do with it. Without really considering it, she pulled the knife that was always at her ankle from it’s small sheath and pressed the tiny shard into the leather wrapping of the handle. It stuck tight.

_My baby._ Her mother’s voice came to her. _Forgive me. I saw a path for you. I saw the path for you. It couldn’t be avoided. I’m sorry._

Tears started, and Ariel found she couldn’t stop them.

“Naneth?”

A whispy shape appeared next to her. Clouded, but clear. _I’m sorry, Ariel. I’m sorry there’s a battle still in front of you. But I know, I know you will be strong enough._ A cold breeze grazed Ariel’s cheek. _I love you._

The certainty Ariel had been searching for came to her. The tower was her fate was waiting. The tower was where she had to go next. The darkness was waiting for her, and she could not leave it any longer. She could not leave it to grow stronger.

She took a deep breath. She had to find Edraith.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a LONG chapter. I wanted to just do this whole story in one shot, but I decided to split it up into sections. I think there will be two or three sections.


End file.
